Halo: Contact Neuroi
by BbK2442
Summary: The crew of the UNSC Salamander will face their greatest challenge yet. When the testing of an experimental FTL drive goes wrong, the crew find them flung into another universe; one where humanity is fighting for survival against an alien menace. Even with the help of their champions-the witches-the situation is grim. Will the crew of the Salamander help turn the tide?
1. Prologue Pt 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own either Strike Witches or Halo. Strike Witches is owned by Shimada Fumikane and Halo is owned by Microsoft Studios.**

**Author's Notes: First, I would like to give my thanks to Bucue for all the help. Thanks for putting up with my barrage of questions and for being my beta reader. To you readers, please check out "Witches Rangers and the 141" if you like Strike Witches and Call of Duty. And Ghost, don't forget Ghost. Because he's awesome. **

**Second, this is my first fanfic so I implore you readers to please review after reading so I can improve it. And no flames. Reviews are helpful. Flames are not.**

**Third, I would like to shamelessly advertise that I am writing a story on FictionPress as well. If you like this story, please check out "Dogs of War" by BbK2442 on FictionPress.**

**Finally, this Haloverse will be slightly AU. You'll see in a minute. **

******Also, I've made some slight changes to some of the details in the story. It shouldn't really affect the story all that much, but I felt they were necessary.**

**Now enough with the long-winded commentary. Let the story begin.**

* * *

**Prologue Part 1- **_**Ignis Aurum Probat**_

**Reach Orbit**

**March 4, 2575**

**0530 Hours, Local Time**

Reach. The second planet of the Epsilon Eridani system. Located at about 10.5 light-years from the Sol System, Reach was the crown jewel of the inner colonies of the United Earth Government, or UEG for short. Reach served as the United Nations Space Command's, or UNSC for short, strategic headquarters, as well as being home to the largest UNSC naval base, and was the second-largest population center of the UEG. The planet was abandoned for some time following its glassing during the Human-Covenant War in 2552. Even now, Reach's surface was still scarred: mountain ranges carved away by energy projectors, continents turned to blackened wastelands, and whole cities turned to ashes. Fortunately though, humanity has begun re-terraforming the planet and efforts are well underway, with experts believing that the planet will be restored to a habitable state by the end of the decade.

In the meantime, the orbit above Reach was thrumming with activity. Despite the planet itself being non-habitable for the time being, Reach still occupied a strategic location in space, and that made it a focal point for business. Reach was now even busier than it had been before the Human-Covenant War. Its orbit was now filled with so many shipyards, space stations, and orbital defense platforms that it formed a veritable artificial ring around the planet. And of course, there were ships. Ships of all classes and sizes belonging to all races floated among the orbital facilities, either coming or going or keeping station.

One such ship was docked with one of UNSC's shipyards, its massive frame encircling it like a giant, titanium ribcage. Two _Strident_-class heavy frigates flanked the massive structures, guarding it against any trespassers. The ship was a 3.5 kilometer long slab of metal built in the distinctive blocky design and painted in the equally distinctive gunmetal grey of UNSC warships. It carried the name _Salamander_ painted in white on its side. The UNSC _Salamander_ (LPA-1) was one of the newest ships to join the UNSC fleet, as well as being one of the largest. However, despite the impressive size of the ship, it is not important on its own for no ship can command itself (not even with one of the latest generation smart AIs on board) nor can a ship take and hold positions on a planet. It carried an equally massive crew of 24,000 personnel to service it, protect it from boarders, and to project power onto the planet below. This is the story of the crew of the UNSC _Salamander_, a ship whose name will become legendary across the infinite universes…

* * *

**UNSC **_**Salamander**_**, Hangar Bay A3**

**Lance Corporal Jakob E. Branley**

**0530 Hours**

In one of the _Salamander_'s many hangar bays, pilots and technical crew went about on their business like professionals. Well, some of them anyways. Mostly, it was the Huragoks that were still doing their job; floating along doing what they loved to do and what they did best. The rest of them were sticking around to watch the spectacle before them.

Three humans and one T'vaoan Kig-Yar–the four of them forming Fireteam Vanguard–were on all fours and in the mottled green of UNSC Marine doing push-ups under the watchful eyes of a certain grizzled old Sergeant Major of the Marine Corps who had a reputation during the Human-Covenant War for being gung-ho and absolutely unkillable.

"Is that all you can do, marines?! Just 150 push-ups?! Come on, son. Let me see 200!" Avery J. Johnson roared at the Marines.

The marines in question could only grunt in answer. Not only were they wearing uniforms, they were also wearing full battle armor complete with powered exoskeletons. The exoskeletons though, were switched off. So the Marines had to do push-ups in over 100 pounds of armor and gear using their own muscle power. In other words, it was training from hell. Even the T'vaoan was having trouble by this point.

"When I was the Corps," Johnson continued, "we didn't have all these fancy-schmancy powered armor and personal energy shields and electromagnetic assault rifles to do our work for us. We had sticks! Two of them, and a rock for the whole platoon–and we had to share that rock! You all are very lucky boys, but never forget one thing! It isn't the stick or the rock or the rifle that kills the enemy. The stick doesn't get up and whack the enemy's hide and the rock certainly doesn't lift itself and bash in the other guy's head! And of course, the rifle doesn't turn itself into a little girl and shoot your enemies for you! No son, it's you. Yes, you! You are the one picking up the stick and murdering the other guy with it. You are the one bashing in the other guy's head with the rock. And you are most certainly the one pulling that trigger and sending sweet hot lead at the bad guy! Never forget that you are the ultimate weapon! And that is why you must ensure that you are in tip-top shape to fight whatever monsters we encounter. Do I make myself clear?!"

There was a muttered response from two of the human Marines. The remaining human and the T'vaoan hissed in response.

"I said 'Do I make myself clear'?!" Johnson roared.

"Sir, yes sir!" The three humans managed to get out. The T'vaoan snarled something that meant approximately the same thing.

"Good! 198…199…200! At ease, Marines!"

The 4 marines promptly collapsed on the floor. They laid there for a while, panting heavily from the exertion of having to do 200 push-ups in full armor and gear before switching their exoskeletons back on, immediately relieving them of the sheer weight of their armor. The pilots and mechanics paid off bets as to whether or not the jarheads could do it.

One of the pilots, a blue-eyed woman with ash-blonde hair, paid off the Sangheili pilot next to her and grinned at one of the marines in particular. "Hey, Jake! You gonna lay there 'til doomsday or what?" The pilot asked cheekily.

The Marine in question wrestled with his helmet until he got it off, revealing a brown face and eyes of a blue so bright it was the color of a clear sky. His black hair was cut into a Marine-style buzzcut. "Fuck you, Anna," Lance Corporal Jakob E. Branley said wearily. "You're not the one who had to do 200 push-ups in this stuff. Hell, you even bet against me. What gives?"

As for the pilot, Lieutenant Anna Härkönen-Kovalenko, she just smirked. "What can I say? My faith in you must be lackin' a bit."

The Sangheili pilot who won the bet grinned in response, though to be honest it looked more like he was baring the fangs of his four-part mandibles to human eyes. "Well, my faith was well-rewarded. You should not doubt your own species so," he said cheerfully.

"Ah, go fuck yourself. I can have as much or as little faith in humanity as I want," Anna replied just as cheerfully.

The Sangheili laughed heartily and walked off, amused at the absurdity humanity was capable of.

A human pilot with regulation-length brown hair standing next to Anna pushed up his glasses, which caught the light and hid his green eyes with their–surprisingly enough–Asiatic epicanthic folds. "Hmph. 200 push-ups in that gear is nothing. Had you four been keeping up your training, you would not have had so much trouble," said the arrogant pilot.

The marine lying next to Jakob pulled her helmet off to reveal an Asian face with chestnut-brown hair set into short spikes, pale skin, and dark eyes. She would have looked pretty, in a boyish sort of way, had she not opened her mouth. As it was, "_Urusee, bakayarou!_ Let's see you try doing 200 push-ups in this, _Megane_!" Private First Class Taiga Daidouji shouted angrily.

The pilot, Lieutenant Maximilian von Steinfeld merely huffed in response. "Unlike you, some people actually have work to do. Now, if you will excuse me." Max walked off toward his Broadsword fighter.

"Tch! What's with him? You'd think someone spat in his soup, isn't that right Sar-chan?" Taiga asked the marine next to her.

The marine pulled her helmet off, revealing a dark-skinned face of Indian descent, and shook out her clearly-longer-than-UNSC-Marine-Corps-regulation black hair so that it fell past her shoulders. She was a bit short for a Marine, about 5'6", but she was every bit a Marine as the rest of them. Private First Class Sar Fen nodded her agreement. "Yes. Someone definitely spitted in his soup," Sar said in agreement.

The T'vaoan marine next to Sar made a series of sounds that sounded a grunting, squaking, and snarling sounds all jumbled together into a foreign language. Like all Kig-Yar, regardless of sub-species, T'vaoans had much difficulty speaking human languages due to their differently shaped larynxes–not to mention their lack of lips–and often either resorted to translation devices or, as in this case, a translator.

"Hm. Tak is right. Someone _should_ spit in his soup, if they haven't did it yet," Sar said happily, her facial expression unchanging despite the emotion in her voice.

The T'vaoan marine, Private First Class Tak Jol, nodded emphatically, shaking the black feathers on the back of his head. It was a gesture he learned from the humans.

"Aw, Max isn't that bad. I mean sure, he's really critical, he's kind of a jerk at times, and he's always going on about rules and regulations, and…yeah, you're right. Someone should spit in his soup," Anna agreed finally.

Then suddenly a bell rang over the intercom. "Hey, everyone! Breakfast's being served in the mess hall right now! You guys better hurry if you want any food!" the voice of _Salamander_'s AI announced over the intercom.

Jakob grinned. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go get some grub."

The other 3 marines nodded their assent. They all started to get up when Johnson's voice rang out, "Attention!"

All four marines plus all the airmen and technicians immediately went to attention. Johnson quickly ran by them shouting, "You snooze, you lose, son! Perks of the rank!"

All everyone did was stare with gaping mouths after the running form of Johnson as he ran towards the mess hall laughing all the way like a demented ogre. Silence reigned for a moment.

"_Kuso!_ _Ano_ _bakagunsou!_" Taiga shouted angrily as she broke the silence. She turned towards everyone. "Well come on, guys! You want to let a 91-year old man beat you to the mess hall?!" she shouted.

"No!" Everyone shouted back, with the exception of the various ex-Covenant races in their midst who answered an approximately similar word in their native languages.

'_Well technically, he's 87. But considering how fast he ran, it's not much of a comfort,'_ thought Jakob.

And so began a general stampede after Johnson towards the mess hall, leaving behind silence, the Huragok, and a few humans who decided not to participate in Johnson's little game and instead, simply took the shortcut to the mess room.

* * *

**UNSC **_**Salamander**_**, Conference Room**

**Rear Admiral (Upper Half) James G. Cutter**

**0540 Hours**

UNSC _Salamander_'sconference room consisted of a large rectangular table with a holographic projector built into it. Projected above the table via the projector was a slowly revolving emblem of a dragon-like salamander wrapped around a burning flame with the silhouette of the UNSC _Salamander_ behind it and set in a blue background. The words "UNSC SALAMANDER" and "LPA-1" surrounded the emblem on the top and bottom respectively and the phrase "_IGNIS AURUM PROBAT_" laid below the emblem emblazoned on a banner in gold letters, comprising the ship's motto. The twin emblems of the UEG and the UNSC were displayed on the wall like background images: not getting in the way, yet always there when you looked. Seats were arranged around the table (for sitting obviously).

At the head of the table, Rear Admiral James Gregory Cutter, captain of the UNSC _Salamander_, was reading a holographic copy of a 250-page report detailing the specifications of a new class of FTL drive. As he read it, he ran a hand through grey hair that was once black as he attempted to make sense of the ridiculously long report in front of him.

Beside him his executive officer–or XO–Lieutenant Commander Angelina de Medici, sat patiently waiting for her captain to finish reading the report she had read, sort of. Truthfully, she had skimmed through it for the parts she could understand and had skipped the others. Despite her background in engineering, even she had problems understanding half the report, immediately concluding that only quantum physicists and advanced smart AIs could have understood the parts she'd skipped.

After a while, Cutter closed the program, light glinting off the two stars on each shoulder. "So this new Slipspace drive, is supposed to work by essentially punching a hole through time and space, am I correct Dr…Voroshilov, was it?"

The tall, pale youth sitting to his left nodded. "Specifically, my name is Mikhail Alexandrovich Alister Voroshilov, Ph. D.," he said with a soft British accent.

Cutter didn't quite know what to make of him. There were two reasons why this was so:

One was his appearance. He was dressed entirely in black: from his black lab coat, to his black shirt underneath, to his black cargo pants, and finally to his black combat boots. His equally black hair was a messy mop of wavy hair that would not look out of place on a mad scientist, but his expression looked anything but, blank as it was. He looked thin, but not overly so, and his skin was incredibly pale, as if he had not seen the light of day for many a year. If it weren't for his slenderness, Cutter would have thought he was a Spartan. His steel-grey eyes watched Cutter as he spoke as if he were analyzing him and cataloguing the data somewhere, and when he spoke, it was in a monotone like a classical robot, albeit a British one.

The second was his bodyguard. Hovering just above and behind his shoulder was a Z-1500 Aggressor Sentinel, bobbing slightly up and down as it stood, er, floated guard. Its single glowing blue eye watched everything and everybody without fail, and every so often it would sweep a blue scanning beam over the room as if it were afraid it had missed something the first dozen times it had done that. The thing unnerved the two officers, Cutter especially so as he had had a run-in with some hostile Sentinels before. It wasn't a pleasant experience and he had no wish to repeat it. Dr. Voroshilov had assured them that it was non-hostile and that it would attack only in defense of him or itself, but still…

"Very well, Dr. Voroshilov. Then may I have the answer to my previous question?" Cutter asked.

Voroshilov nodded slightly. "Affirmative, though it would be incorrect to refer to it as a Slipspace drive considering that it only makes partial use of Slipspace."

Cutter simply stared at him. "So if it only partially uses Slipspace, how does this…"

"Space-Time Rupture and Travel System Prototype No. 25."

'_You just had to give it a 17-syllable name, did you?'_ he thought sarcastically. Out loud, he asked, "By any chance, do you have a shorter name for it?"

"Affirmative. You may refer to it as the Hermes Transdimensional Engine, or the Hermes Drive."

Cutter blinked at the unusual name, but pressed on. "The Hermes Drive, how does it work?"

Now it was Voroshilov's turn to blink. "The information was in the report. You did read it, did you not?"

Cutter gave de Medici a look that said, "Can please you explain it to this gentleman?"

"Dr. Voroshilov, while your report was meticulous and detailed, it was also completely uninformative," de Medici explained with a serene smile that did nothing to hide the bluntness of her words.

Voroshilov blinked twice. "Exactly how is the report uninformative? I specifically gave the full details of every prototype I had completed in there and-"

"And that is why the report is uninformative." De Medici had adopted what Cutter liked to call the "Angelina de Medici Lecture Pose 1", which consisted of the Lieutenant Commander resting an elbow on one hand while her other hand had a finger held up. "Simply put, the main problem is information overload. Combine with the liberal use of jargon, it made most of the report incomprehensible to all but academics," de Medici explained, watching Dr. Voroshilov frown slightly at her. "Now why don't you try again, but this time summarize it in layman's terms."

Voroshilov sighed. "Very well, if I must." His eyes became unfocused as he thought about how to deconstruct his report and reconstruct it into something even his father would have understood. It lasted less than a minute. "The basic theory behind my Hermes Drive involves opening a breach in the space-time continuum in Slipspace. First, the ship equipped with the Hermes Drive must enter Slipspace through the use of a Shaw-Fujikawa Translight Engine or a Covenant analogue. Then, and only then, would the Hermes Drive be used. There are two stages to the operation of the Hermes Drive. First, a large quantity negative mass particles-"

"Pardon?" Cutter interrupted.

Voroshilov's neutral expression cracked a bit as he looked extremely annoyed at having been interrupted, but he did try to explain it. "Negative mass particles are particles that have negative mass. It is self-explanatory. For example: a kilogram of negative hydrogen would have a mass of -1 kilograms."

Cutter tried to wrap his head around that concept. "But that's…impossible, is it not? How can something have negative mass? And just to be clear, it's not antimatter, is it?"

"Negative. Antimatter has an opposite charge and particle properties to normal matter and when it comes into contact with normal matter, mutual annihilation occurs, resulting in the destruction of both substances along with a significant amount of energy. Matter with negative mass exhibits no such destructive properties upon contact with normal matter. It does, however, exhibit unique properties upon space-time that makes it useful for a variety of purposes besides my Hermes Drive. In fact, the material forms the basis for the operation of the repulsor engines used by Covenant ships for sublight travel. Now may I continue with my explanation?"

Cutter, already regretting his decision to ask for clarification, just nodded. _'Exactly what have been the techies doing while I've been asleep all these years? I'd better ask Angelina for some of her issues of _Scientific Universal_ later,'_ he made a note for himself.

"As I was saying, first, a large quantity of negative mass particles is generated by the Hermes Drive, then it is collected and formed into a bubble around the ship via a special electromagnetic field. With this bubble in place, the ship immediately begins to warp space-time within Slipspace and quickly translates so high up into Slipspace that it actually breaches the boundaries of this very dimension, allowing it to traverse a once-theoretical region that I have dubbed Inter-Dimensional Space. You see, it is-"

Cutter quickly held up a hand to interrupt Voroshilov before he launched into another explanation. Honestly, his brain would have melted if he had to endure another drawn-out explanation like before. "Alright, let's just skip the technical details so you can tell me why did you select my ship for this experiment of yours?"

"My reason for using your vessel is simple," as Dr. Voroshilov continued to explain, looking even more annoyed now that he had been interrupted twice. "The UNSC _Salamander_ has a far larger power supply than what is necessary to power it. Normally that reserve of power would be used to enhance the ship's weapons, correct?"

Cutter nodded in confirmation.

"I plan to use that extra reserve to power the Hermes Drive. The previous tests had involved small drones equipped with a scaled-down version of the Hermes Drive, yet still required an exorbitant amount of power. Based on my calculations for the full-sized Hermes Drive's power requirements, either your ship or the UNSC _Reach_ would have sufficed for this test while still leaving enough power to operate. And since the _Reach_ will not be launched for at least 8 months, your ship was chosen instead."

"And I suppose HIGHCOM is interested in your Hermes Drive enough for them to sign off on this?" Cutter asked wearily.

"It was on the last page of my report, Admiral Cutter. My experiment has the full support of the United Nations Space Command."

"Which brings me to my point: why did HIGHCOM approve this experiment on a UNSC warship?"

"I believe it has to do with the results of my tests with my Hermes Drive on my drones earlier."

"And what, pray tell, were the results? And please spare me the details."

Voroshilov sighed and continued. "The results of all previous tests with the Hermes Drive were as follows: all drones successfully entered Slipspace, successfully activated and used the Hermes Drive, and successfully exited Slipspace at their destinations with no lag time observed by outside instruments. In other words, the drones arrives at their destinations instantaneously–or as near to instantaneous that outside instruments could not measure the difference–regardless of distance traveled."

That got both Cutter's and de Medici's attention instantaneously, or as near to instantaneous as to make no difference. "Did you say the drones arrived instantly? Without regard to distance?" Cutter asked.

Voroshilov looked annoyed at having to repeat himself once more. "Affirmative. The longest jump made was from Earth to Harvest. The monitoring stations at both Earth and Harvest recorded the time lag to be zero, or as near to zero as to be undetectable to the instruments. In order to positively confirm this, I would require more sensitive instruments, but that is another issue I shall reserve for another time."

Cutter's eyes widened in shock. Harvest was on the very edge of human-controlled space: located at over 100 light-years from Earth in the Epsilon Indi system. To be able to travel that far a distance instantaneously would be a tremendous breakthrough. Cutter was already imagining how the Battle of Harvest (both battles) would have turned out had the UNSC possessed this kind of technology, then winced mentally as he realized it still wouldn't have made much of a difference. Cutter glanced at de Medici and noticed her eyes were practically glowing as she imagined the possibilities this Hermes Drive offered. Cutter however, wrested his thought away to ask, "So what were the conditions of the drones?" Cutter knew from experience that every silver cloud had a lead bottom somewhere, and he had resolved not to be taken in by every new piece of tech like the younger officers seem to be these days.

However, Voroshilov quickly proved experience to be wrong. "The drones successfully exited Slipspace unharmed, albeit significantly older than the rest of the universe."

That snapped de Medici out of her thoughts. "How significant?" she asked.

"It varied from drone to drone and was in direct proportion to distance traveled. In the case of the Earth-Harvest drone, it appeared the drone's onboard instruments recorded that 32 Earth days had passed in transit. I shall have to find a way to rectify this problem later."

'_A little over a month then. Not bad,'_ Cutter thought.

Considering that even with the latest UNSC Slipspace drives the voyage from Earth to Harvest still took 3-4 months, it was more than just 'not bad'. It was incredible.

Cutter sighed in defeat. Even he had to admit, this Hermes Drive was the most promising tech he'd ever heard of. "Very well, then. Natsu?"

_Salamander_'s emblem vanished. Moments later, the ship's AI materialized in a gout of flame at the center of the table. For its avatar, _Salamander_'s AI chose to represent itself as a teenaged boy with spiky pink hair and black eyes named Natsu. He wore a sleeveless, dark-colored waistcoat that exposed his bare chest along with white knee-length trousers, black wristband, and black sandals. Finally, he wore a scale patterned scarf wrapped around his neck. Natsu smashed a fist into his hand. **"What's up, cap'n? You need me to blow something up?"** He asked eagerly.

"Uh, no. Just tell the ship our guest arrived in that they may bring it in to an available hangar."

Natsu jabbed his thumb into his chest. **"Alright, leave it to me! I'll give it a welcoming barrage so big, they'll see it for light-years around!"**

"Wait, what? No, I just want you to open the hangar door and-"

"**Charging plasma torpedo launchers! Alright guys, let's give 'em a taste of-"**

"Natsu?" The way de Medici asked that question was…interesting. She had a serene smile on her face utterly devoid of anger, yet she projected an aura so dark and frightening even Natsu noticed it.

"**Y-Yes, Lieutenant Commander de Medici?"** he asked nervously.

"Skipper gave you an order. You are to open the doors and nothing more. Do you understand?"

"**Well, I-"**

"Do you understand, Natsu?" Her aura darkened into pitch-black shadows, but her serene smile never wavered.

Natsu the AI went stiff and saluted. **"A-Aye!"** he squeaked out before disappearing. His avatar was quickly replaced by a holographic projection of Hangar Bay A2. The great doors of the hangar bay–made up of about 5 meters of Titanium-A5–slid open; the atmosphere within protected from ejection by a weak energy shield present at all times at the bay doors.

Dr. Voroshilov then put a finger to his ear. "Curiosity, you may bring the _Argo_ in now," he said, apparently speaking into a microphone.

Thereafter, Dr. Voroshilov's ship floated in, the sight of which made one of Cutter's graying eyebrows quirk up in surprise.

'_Now where in the galaxy did he get that from?'_ Cutter wondered.

Hovering in the hangar was an H-C War-era _Razor_-class Prowler with the name _Argo_ painted on the side in white. It's curved, sweeping wings combined with its sharp nose gave it a graceful, ray-like appearance that contrasted sharply with the usual ugly, blocky designs of UNSC ships. Its black skin seemed to almost suck in the light, giving it a menacing air about it. Combined with its graceful design, one could compare it to a manta ray. As it turned around and coasted over to land on an empty spot next to an almost equally as massive Condor gunship though, Cutter realized that something looked off about the stealth ship. For one thing, the _Argo_ was longer than what a _Razor_-class should be and there were what appeared to be strange-looking doors located on its sides. There were also strange, glowing turrets that seemed to have replaced the usual pulse lasers. The design of the turrets looked vaguely familiar to Cutter, but he could not recall where it was from.

As the _Argo_ touched down on the hangar floor and UNSC personnel went over to examine the ship, Cutter suddenly remembered from where he had seen weapons like those turrets from: a world within a world he and his crew aboard the _Spirit of Fire_ had encountered in the course of pursuing a certain kidnapped scientist.

The docking ramp lowered and Sentinels streamed out, surprising the UNSC personnel who had been walking over to inspect it. Cutter was about to issue the order to lock the hangar down when he realized the Sentinels weren't attacking. They filed out in a long procession, each Sentinel carrying a piece of machinery in its manipulator claws. Cutter even saw a trio of the fearsome Enforcer Sentinels, each carrying a heavy load of machinery using its claws with as much delicacy as it could muster with those massive things.

Finally, as if it couldn't get any more surreal, a Monitor floated out the ramp, apparently directing the Sentinels. Suddenly, an avatar of the Monitor appeared in the projection and turned to Dr. Voroshilov. **"Since I have been allowed inside, does that mean negotiations are over, young master?"** the Monitor asked inquisitively.

"The negotiations are almost complete Curiosity. I am now in the final stages of the negotiations," Dr. Voroshilov answered.

"Wait, wait, hold on! What is the meaning of this?!" Cutter shouted in confusion at the absurd events happening in front of him.

The Monitor's virtual avatar spun around to face the two officers. **"Oh, good day sir, ma'am. My name is 112 Guileless Curiosity, but you may call me Curiosity for short. How do you do?"** it greeted in a friendly-sounding British accent.

Cutter was a bit thrown off by its politeness and pleasant tone of voice.

Not so for de Medici. "Dr. Voroshilov, would you care to explain this? Your Sentinel by itself was odd enough, but this…" she gestured to the line of Sentinels streaming out of the hangar and Curiosity whose avatar looked back and forth from the Lieutenant Commander and Dr. Voroshilov as its real body continued directing the Sentinels. UNSC personnel backed away from the line of Sentinels, with the exception of the Sangheili who tended to stand gazing in awe and/or made way for the Monitor and Sentinels, calling them "Oracle" and "Holy Warriors" respectively.

Dr. Voroshilov held up a hand. "Forgive me, but one of the conditions that I had made prior to allowing the UNSC access to my Hermes Drive for testing is that I do not have to answer either questions regarding my companions or any questions regarding my ship, so I am afraid my answer to your question, Lieutenant Commander de Medici, is no."

'_My 'companions'?'_ thought Cutter as he watched de Medici give Dr. Voroshilov her patented "Angelina de Medici Scary Smile".

"However, I can assure you that they are harmless, barring any hostile action directed against my person or themselves. Does that satisfy you, Lieutenant Commander?"

De Medici maintained her scary smile for a few more moments before the threatening aura faded and she answered, "For now, it does." She then turned to Cutter. "And you, Skipper?" she asked.

'_Remind me to never raise her ire,'_ Cutter noted before answering, "I suppose so."

"**Oh, then I'll just continue on my way. I'll see you later, young master,"** Curiosity said before his avatar disappeared.

Natsu's avatar then reappeared. **"W-Will that be all, Lieutenant Commander de Medici?"** he asked, obviously still terrified of her.

De Medici gave him a serene smile that lacked most of the malice from earlier. "Yes, that will be all. Just make sure not to get so overzealous again, understood?"

"**Aye!"** Natsu squeaked before disappearing for good this time.

'_He means well, but I can't help but miss my old AI. She may have been a bit snarky, but at least she wasn't in the habit of firing the ship's weapons on a whim!'_ he thought.

Everyone took that as the signal for the meeting's end. Cutter extended a hand. "Well, it's been a pleasure, Dr. Voroshilov, and let's hope the test turns out well."

Dr. Voroshilov stared at Cutter's hand as if he was a bit unsure of what to do with it. Then, hesitantly, he grasped the offered hand.

Cutter noted the strength of the grip. It wasn't particularly tight–he'd met people who'd try to crush other people's hands when they're shaking them out of some inferiority complex; this wasn't one of them–but Dr. Voroshilov's hand felt like it was made of Titanium-A for all its thinness. When de Medici offered her hand, Dr. Voroshilov did the same making her quirk an eyebrow up in surprise.

"Negotiations have been concluded. Good day then," he said simply before walking towards the door. His Sentinel beeped a farewell at the two officers before following its principal out the door.

After Dr. Voroshilov had left, Cutter slumped back down into his chair and smoothed back his black hair, already mostly grey due to a combination of age and stress, a shipload of stress. "Alright, who decided that my ship had to be the testbed for every piece of experimental tech in the UNSC? And why in God's name did you ever let that man onboard?" he asked wearily.

De Medici looked at him with surprise. "Dr. Voroshilov?" she asked.

Cutter nodded in confirmation. "He acts suspicious. He looks suspicious. Hell, he _is_ suspicious. Why the hell did you approve him onboard?"

De Medici thought for a moment before answering. "To be honest, I'm not all that certain. I just looked into his eyes and…I had a feeling he can be trusted."

Cutter levelled a blue-eyed gaze on her. "So, it's a gut feeling?"

De Medici answered that gaze with a hazel-eyed gaze of her own. "Pretty much."

Their gazes contested each other for dominance for several seconds before Cutter's mouth quirked up in a lop-sided smile. "Hm, alright then. God knows I've gone off on hunches before. And honestly, even a hunch sounds better than all the experimental stuff HIGHCOM seems to insist on my ship with."

"Well it's not that bad, Skipper," de Medici consoled. "At least we got plasma torpedoes now. Remember how your fellow captains were all talking about how jealous they were that your ship was getting the new launchers?"

"Heh heh, yeah. I guessing they forgot to read the word 'experimental' on those plasma torpedoes. I remember all too well that anything with that word in it usually had a habit of either not working when you wanted it to, or worse, exploding when you _didn't_ want it to."

De Medici laughed softly. "I think you're giving the plasma torpedoes just a little too much grief. We do actually have some experience with plasma weapons. If you're going to worry about something, worry about the Helios."

Cutter laughed as well, a bass tone to the de Medici's contralto. "Yes, that would likely be the one to explode during the next test-firing. You can mark my words on that!"

The two friends sat together in a warm silence, basking in the humor of their situation.

Cutter stretched. "Well, it should be about time for breakfast now. Shall we adjourn to the wardroom for some breakfast?" He asked her as he began to walk towards the door.

But before he could, de Medici grabbed his shoulder. "Not yet, Skipper. You still have a meeting with that Materials Group technician."

Cutter scratched his head. "Yes, him. What was his name again?"

"His file said his name was Dr. Hal Emmerich, but he insists on people calling him Otacon."

"Otacon?"

"A nickname, I assume."

Cutter sighed in exasperation at all eccentric scientists everywhere. "So what does Dr. 'Otacon' want?"

"It's about _that_."

Cutter rolled his eyes. "Again? If he had wanted to keep it a secret, he's shouldn't continue having closed-door meetings with the commanding officer about it. Besides, what's there to talk about? We've already approved the tests and the assigned pilot. It should be starting right after we complete the tests for the Hermes Drive."

She shrugged. "Apparently, the test pilot hasn't arrived yet. Dr. Emmerich wants a back-up pilot chosen in case the test pilot doesn't show up in time."

Cutter sat heavily back down on the chair. He sighed and said, "Maybe we can still get something quick to eat before we go to work. I do _not_ fancy working on an empty stomach."

De Medici nodded and sat down on the chair next to him, "Now that is something we both agree on."

* * *

**UNSC **_**Salamander**_**, Mess Hall**

**SMMC Avery J. Johnson**

**0604 hours**

The group of stampeding marines and crew finally reached the mess hall after about 34 minutes of running around like a mob of chickens with their heads cut off. Needless to say, Sergeant Major of the Marine Corps A. J. Johnson was already there. In fact, he had half-finished his meal already.

He waved at the group. "What took you guys so long?" He asked with a perfectly innocent expression on his face…okay maybe not quite. His grin ruined the effect.

The group had their mouths gaping wide open. _'How the hell did he get here this quickly?!'_ they all thought.

Johnson kept his huge grin plastered on his face. "Now here's a question for you all. Answer it correctly and you'll get a cookie. Hell, I'll even let you sit with us."

'_Us?'_ they all thought.

It was then that they noticed the four people sitting near to Johnson. Or rather, the four giants seeing as none of them were below 2.08 meters (6 ft 10 in) tall. Their unnaturally pale faces, their size, plus their MJOLNIR Powered Assault Armor [GEN2] marked them as clearly as if they had a neon sign sticking out of their heads exclaiming who they were. It didn't take a genius to realize that they were Spartans. It was just that the group's focus on Johnson combined with the Spartans' lack of presence meant that they weren't noticed until Johnson practically pointed them out.

The group stared, or rather, gawked at the Spartans. The Spartans stared back at the group with impassive gazes…well, two of them were.

One of them was grinning at them, his green eyes filled with amusement. "Man, he sure got you guys good!" said the brown-haired Spartan, who was still grinning at them, yet was somehow coming off as friendly. Despite how pale it was, his Mediterranean skin tone could still be clearly made out. The name Straka, Lucian was written on a flexible nameplate stuck to the right breast of his black bodysuit underneath his armor.

Sitting to Lucian's left was a grey-eyed woman with her black hair tied behind her head in a short ponytail. She was chewing on a mouthful of food as she stared inquisitively at the group with bright, shiny eyes, looking for all the world like a Spartan chipmunk. One eyebrow was thinner than the other due to a mishap with one of her "toys". Cherenkov, Mira was the name written on her nameplate.

In front of him, sitting next to Johnson, the black-haired and black-eyed Asian man gave a nod. He looked pretty ordinary for a Spartan save for an energy sword and a black monomolecular sword clipped to his belt, which were his favorite weapons. The name Kirito-4007 was written on his nameplate.

Finally, sitting in front of Johnson, was a woman with snow-white hair dangling to her shoulders. Her skin was even paler than the other two and her blood-red eyes gazed at the group from Hangar Bay A3. Her nameplate read Elsa-3736.

Together, these four Spartans formed one of the many Spartan fireteams aboard UNSC _Salamander_: Fireteam Maverick.

The gaze of the four Spartans transfixed everyone enough to pretty much stop their mental processes, save for one marine who had been thinking about the question Sgt. Maj. Johnson had asked them.

"Damn! It was at that first intersection, wasn't it?" LCpl Jakob Branley wondered out loud.

All eyes turned towards Jakob, including the Spartans whose gazes now settled on him and him alone. Anyone who had that much attention on him would feel uncomfortable. Jakob felt a bead of sweat run down the side of his head.

"Interesting theory you got there. Care to back it up, rookie?" Johnson asked with a raised eyebrow.

Jakob gulps. "Well, at the first intersection, I thought I heard footsteps coming from the left passage, but then I heard your voice taunting us. It came from the right corridor. Since you logically couldn't have been in two places at the same time, I thought that the footsteps I heard were a decoy or just a random person walking through."

Sar glared at him. "I told you me and Tak smelled him! You wouldn't listen!" She said angrily. Tak snarled in agreement.

Johnson threw back his head and laughed long and loud. "She's right. You should've listened to her and that Skirmisher. Here, I'll let this guy explain." He pulled a small holographic projector out of his vest and placed it on the table. "Come on out Happy and explain it to these swabbies and jarheads!"

The projector activated with a glow and a small figure materialized in the air above it. It was a blue and white cat standing on two legs. It carried a green rucksack around its neck. The cat raised a hand, er, paw and happily said, **"Aye!"**

The Hangar Bay A3 group were stunned beyond belief. Human and alien alike gaped at the blue cat.

"Who the hell are you?" Taiga asked in a disbelieving voice.

"**I'm Happy!"** The blue cat answered happily.

"…And? Is there more?" Jakob asked after several seconds had passed.

"**Well, technically I'm Happy-158. I'm one of 363 Happys Natsu made to carry out additional tasks when he's too busy or overloaded with work. Basically, I'm a portable AI who's running things when Natsu's not around,"** Happy-158 explained.

Taiga stepped in and asked the question that had been on everyone's mind, "So how did you-

"**What's the matter, son?! Can't you tell the difference between me and the Sergeant Major here?!"** Happy-158 shouted in perfect imitation of Johnson's voice, right down to the lingo.

Immediately, the Hangar Bay A3 group started complaining about how unfair that was.

"You really think the enemy's going to play fair out there?!" Johnson shouted, interrupting the complaints. "You really think they're going to play by the rules like good little boys and girls? Hell no! They're going to use every little dirty trick in the book and more that's not even in the book! Forget that for even a moment and you're gonna find yourself with a glowing pink crystal sticking out of your ass!"

Many of the men, women, and aliens cringed at the image.

"Now go on and get breakfast! You got a long day ahead of you!"

The Hangar Bay A3 group quickly split up and headed to over to the mess counter.

"Hey, Lance Corporal Branley!"

The sound of Johnson's voice made Jakob stop. He turned around just in time to see Johnson throw something at him. He just managed to catch it.

'_A fortune cookie?'_ Jakob thought as he examined it in his hand.

It was indeed a fortune cookie wrapped in clear plastic. A bit warm from being in Sgt. Maj. Johnson's pants pocket for so long, but otherwise just a regular fortune cookie.

"I did promise you a cookie if you got it right, Rookie." Johnson quipped. "Now why don't you come over here and sit us?" He patted the seat next to him.

Jakob glanced at Johnson and the Spartans, then looked back at his friends Taiga, Sar, Tak, and Jimmy who were waiting for him.

"Maybe some other time, Sergeant Major. I kind of want to sit back with these guys," Jakob said as he pointed a thumb back at his friends.

Johnson laughed. "Carry on then, rookie!"

Jakob nodded and rejoined his friends.

An Unggoy wearing UNSC Marine uniform–Unggoy issue–in addition to the methane tank his race wore in order to breathe waddled over to the table and sat down in front of SgtMaj Johnson. After taking something from his plate–a roasted Mud Wasp–he popped it into his mouth, chewed it with relish, and swallowed it. He looked at Johnson. "So that was him, huh." The Unggoy said in his race's distinctively high-pitched and squeaky voice.

"Why, Deneb, I have no idea who you mean." Johnson said cheekily.

Gunnery Sergeant Deneb Korrok snorted. "Don't play dumb with me, Johnson. You know who I'm talking about. That's one of the kids you've been keeping an eye on, isn't he? The one who walked up to that recruiting station in New Mombasa and asked to join the ODSTs."

Lucian looked at Johnson as if he were joking. "He _asked_? He really just asked?"

Mira perked up. "Mah mmfa mm mrfle brfle ma," she said around a mouthful of food.

"Swallow before speaking, Mira," said Elsa without looking up from her meal.

After quickly chewing and swallowing, Mira finally said, "I want to hear the story behind that!" she said with the bright eager look of a puppy, most uncharacteristic of a Spartan.

Johnson grinned. "You do, do you?" he leaned back as his aged eyes clouded over with the memory of that encounter. "Yup, he was definitely a strange guy. Earnest, but strange. You see, I'd run into an old friend from the Corps in that recruiting station and I was chatting him up when I heard laughing. Me and my buddy turned our heads to see this young guy, boy almost, standing in front of a recruiting officer who was laughing his guts out. After he finally stopped, he asked the guy to repeat what he said very carefully. And you know what he said?"

"No, what?" Mira asked excitedly.

Johnson's grin got even bigger. "He said, 'Sir, will you please allow me to join the ODST?'"

That made Lucian crack up. He struggled to suppress his laughter as he banged a fist on the table, sending the tableware and trays jumping with each impact. The other Spartans and Deneb avoided this by the simple expedient of lifting their trays up.

Johnson himself chuckled at the memory. "Ah yes, and then he found out that you needed to have served some time before they even _consider_ you for the ODST."

"**The rookie is stupid,"** Happy-158 commented.

Deneb laughed, sounding for all the world like a rubber duck with laryngitis, and asked, "You think he still want to get into the ODST? Even after finding out how a Marine lives?"

Johnson grinned an especially wide grin. "Oh, I've no doubt about that, Deneb. I've no doubt about that at all."

* * *

**At another table**

**Lance Corporal Jakob E. Branley**

**0610 Hours**

Jakob turned the fortune cookie over and over in his hand, trying to see if it's really real and not some stupid prank by the Sergeant Major.

"Come on! Just open it up already, Jake-kun. What could he possibly fit in there anyways?" Taiga asked from Jakob's right.

"I don't know. That's why I'm looking," he said.

"Maybe there's a black hole hidden in there or something." Anna suggested from Jakob's other side.

Everyone looked at him strangely. "Seriously? A black hole? How the hell would the Sergeant Major fit a black hole in here?" Jakob asked disbelievingly.

Anna shrugged. "I don't know. But remember, the guy survived getting shot with a beam from one of those Monitors in the chest. If he could do that, he can do anything."

Jakob stared at him, unable to come up with anything to say, then returned his attention to the fortune cookie. He looked it over some more, but couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. "Sar, what do you think?" He asked as he tossed it to Sar.

She caught it, but just folded her arms. "You didn't listen to me before, so why you listen now?" Sar said accusingly.

"I know, I know, and I'm sorry. I'll pay attention to you from now on-

"And Tak," Sar interrupted.

"-and Tak too. So could you two please do me this favor and sniff it out?" Jakob asked pleadingly.

Sar stared at him for a few moments before nodding. "Okay," she said.

She held it close to her face and looked it over like Jakob did. She then sniffed it. "Smells sweet," she said.

Jakob nodded. "Yeah, and what else?" He asked.

Sar shook her head. "Nothing. Tak?" She asked as she handed the fortune cookie to the T'vaoan Kig-Yar.

Tak held the fortune cookie in a three-fingered grip and began to sniff it closely, mumbling to himself.

Jakob listened to his mumbling, which to him sounded vaguely like a raspy turkey. "So Tak, when did you say you were going to get your translator fixed?" Tak, through Sar as an intermediary, had explained a few days ago that his translator suddenly started translating his speech into (according to Sar) weird talk.

Tak looked up from his examination of the fortune cookie and asked something that sounded like a questioning squawk.

"Tak ask why you want to know," Sar translated.

"Well aren't you tired of having to have Sar translate for you 24/7?"

Tak thought for a moment before squawking an agreement. He then jabbered a long series of words in Kig-Yar which made absolutely no sense to Jakob since he didn't speak Kig-Yar.

Luckily, Sar was still there to translate. "Tak say he give to Huragok for fix, but he not hear from it since then."

"Do you know which one?" Jakob asked.

Tak cocked his head to one side as he tried to remember the Huragok's name. "Something about twirling, or revolving?" Sar translated as he answered hesitantly.

Jakob furrowed his brow in concentration. "Was it Spins-In-Place?' he asked.

Tak's head jerked up in realization and he nodded.

Jakob nodded as well. "Yeah, I know him. He's a buddy of mine. I'll ask him about your translator later."

Tak huffed a thanks.

"So, about my fortune cookie? What do you smell in it?"

He jabbered something in his native language.

"Tak say he smell paper in cookie," Sar translated to Jakob.

"Yeah, I know there's paper in it. Tak, you can't smell anything else in there?"

Tak shook his head.

"Alright, give it here."

Tak tossed the fortune cookie back to Jakob. Jakob then took a deep breath and with one movement, popped open the fortune cookie's wrapper.

…Nothing. No explosion. No "end of the world" event. And certainly no black hole magically put there by an unkillable Sergeant Major.

Jakob pulled the fortune cookie out of its wrapper. '_Alright, now that we've established that it isn't going to blow up or make a black hole, let's see what kind of fortune I got_,' he thought.

Jakob cracked open the fortune cookie and looked at his fortune.

'You will soon go through a great ordeal. Keep calm, carry on, and don't forget your towel,' it read.

"Aw, man! Of all the luck!" He complained.

"What?" Taiga, Sar, Tak, and Anna asked simultaneously.

Jakob reread his fortune to them out loud.

Taiga grinned. "Ha, ha! You always get the worst luck, Jake-kun," she said jokingly.

Anna patted him on the back hard enough to knock his breath out. "Eh, don't worry about it all that much! You'll be okay. It's not like it's going to be another _Heart of Darkness_, right?"

Jakob shuddered in memory of what happened aboard that ship. "It'd better not. I'd really rather not go through that again if I can help it."

Sar on the other hand, stared at the paper in Jakob's hand with her sharp eyes, noticing a corner that seems to be curling up from another sheet. "There's another one," she said.

"Huh?" Jakob asked.

Sar pointed at the fortune. "There's another one under it," she said while pointing at the paper.

Jakob looked at his fortune and quickly noticed the curled up corner. "Hey, you're right," he said.

Jakob carefully pulled the first fortune off to reveal a second fortune…of sorts.

Instead of a fortune Jakob saw a strange emblem. Set against a circle of blue was, to his eyes, what appeared to be a yellow Kig-Yar dressed in medieval armor with a red, white, and blue striped crest on its helmet. The helmet had a strange symbol on it that he couldn't remember off the top of his head. Jakob made a note to ask someone about it later. The Kig-Yar was holding a sword in front of it with 6 stars arranged in a leftward-pointing triangle laid across it. Above and below the emblem were red banners. The top banner read "506th JOINT FIGHTER WING" while the one on the bottom read "NOBLE WITCHES".

As if the strange emblem with its nonsensical designations wasn't confusing enough by itself, to the right of the emblem were the words "Noblesse Oblige". Jakob recalled seeing the phrase once in an old book. When he'd looked it up, he found out that the phrase referred to the belief that nobility were supposed to act in a manner appropriate to their station. In other words, that they had a duty to the so-called commoners beneath them.

Jakob frowned at this piece of nonsense. He was most certainly not of noble blood. His father was the current police chief of New Mombasa and his mother was the daughter of a famous scientist. Neither of them could be considered to be anything even remotely close to nobility, so he now had neither any idea how this phrase was supposed to be related to him nor did it give him any clue what the strange emblem before it meant.

"Goddammit! How much more cryptic can this thing get?!" Jakob shouted as he slammed his head into the table out of frustration.

Anna quirked an eyebrow up. "What's got you so worked up?"

Jakob handed to her without looking up from his close-up of the grey table. "Here. See for yourself."

After examining the ridiculously cryptic fortune, Anna could understand the source of her friend's frustration. "No idea what this means, huh?" she said as she handed it back to him.

Jakob stuffed it into his pocket. "Nope. Guess I'll just deal with it as it comes along." He took the two halves of the cookie and popped them into his mouth. "Hopefully, it'll be a while before that happens," he said around a mouthful of cookie.

* * *

And this, folks, is why you should never tempt fate, for fate is the biggest troll in all the universes and it loves messing with people who tempt it.


	2. Prologue Pt 2

**Disclaimer: See previous chapter.**

**Hello, and welcome back to the latest chapter of Halo: Contact Neuroi! This is the second and final part of the prologue, so get ready for the main story to begin next chapter.**

**First off, I'd like to thank Bucue for beta-reading for me. Please check out his/her stories while you're logged in.**

**And again, please leave a review. And no flames.**

******I just realized, I made some grave errors with regards to some of the witches' ranks. I've corrected this now. Apologies for the errors.**

**And now, without further ado, let's begin.**

* * *

**Prologue Part 2- Just Miscommunication**

**506****th**** "Noble Witches" Joint Fighter Wing A-Unit Base, Sedan, Gallia, Earth**

**March 4, 1945**

**Flying Officer Kunika Kuroda**

**1006 Hours, Local Time**

The chestnut-haired Fusoan girl ran down the hallway carrying a stack of reports. She wore a Fusoan shrine maiden's _haori _with a shortened purple _hakama_, signifying her noble blood. Her black arm, neck, and leg bracers glinted off the light from the fancy lighting on the walls and the floor beneath her sandaled feet was covered in rich carpeting, yet she noticed neither of these things in her hurry to deliver the reports. Beside her feet loped a fuzzy brown European rabbit that was frantically trying to keep up with his owner.

Running with the Fusoan girl was a boyish-looking, red-headed Belgican girl with bright blue eyes carrying a similar stack of reports. She wore a brown RAF flying coat with black shorts and a black and white-striped scarf tucked into her coat. To top it off, she wore a green Britannian flat cap on her head. In complete contrast to the Fusoan's frantic expression, the Belgican girl looked far more relaxed, even whistling a tune as she ran alongside her friend.

"Come on, Kunika. What's the rush? We're already late as it is. Why not take it easy for a while?" the Belgican girl asked calmly.

The Fusoan girl, First Lieutenant (中尉 _Chūi_) Kunika Kuroda, looked at the Belgican girl in shock. "No way! If I mess up again, there's a chance they might dock my pay! And I'm not going to let that happen, not when my family needs this!"

The brown lagomorph loping alongside Kunika's feet squeaked in agreement, emphasizing it with an extra-high hop.

Pilot Officer Isabelle du Monceau de Bergendal, or Isaac to her friends, just nodded in sympathy. She's heard her friend talk about her family's situation before. Apparently, they were nobility in name only. They weren't exactly destitute, but they weren't really what you'd call well-off either. "Aw, lighten up. You know Commander Grunne wouldn't get mad over a few late reports."

Kunika shook her head. "It's not the Commander I'm worried about. It's Major Wittgenstein. She threatened to reduce me to half-pay if I screw up again"

Isaac frowned as she thought about it. It sounded like her. Major Wittgenstein was not the sort to tolerate tardiness.

"She really needs to stop being so uptight. Maybe she needs to go on a nice, long hunting trip in the mountains? I hear the duck hunting is nice this time of year." Isaac wondered out loud.

Kunika stared her in confusion (you could practically see the question marks floating over Kunika's head), but she shook it off. "Th-That's why we have to hurry!"

They both picked up the pace. Or rather, Kunika picked up the pace while Isaac and the rabbit tried to follow.

_Almost there! Just a few more doors_, Kunika thought as she approached a door at the end of the hall. She reached out to grab the handle.

Unfortunately, someone chose that moment to open the door from the other side. Kunika attempted to stop, but alas, her momentum was too great and her attempt to brake actually caused her to trip instead.

"_Abunai!_" Kunika managed to get out before colliding with the unfortunate individual.

Kunika's rabbit got out a squeak of alarm before he too collided with them (you know what they say about pets and their owners). Fortunately, he was not very large so he didn't contribute much to the traffic pile-up.

Isaac, on the other hand, leapt over the disaster zone like a deer and landed just as gracefully on the other side without spilling even a single sheet of paper.

Upon landing, she was greeted with the sound of applause. The source of the clapping came from an olive-skinned, auburn-haired young lady with blue-grey eyes twinkling with delight sitting on a sofa in the base's lounge room. Her black uniform and rank insignia marked her as a _capitano _of the Romagnan Air Force. What made her even more noticeable was a golden brooch on her tie in the shape of a coiled dragon. Clearly, it wasn't part of her country's regular uniform, and she didn't care.

"Nice move. I give that a 10/10. As for the two plus the bunny lying in a pile there…"

Isaac turned around to look at the pile-up in the doorway. "Yeah, Kunika always has the worst luck."

The auburn-haired woman, _Capitano_ Adriana Visconti, grinned a grin that would have done the Cheshire cat proud. "_Si_, doesn't she?"

Kunika slowly raised herself to an upright position, rubbing her throbbing head. "_Ite-te…_" she muttered. Then she heard a muffled squeak behind her. Kunika turned around to find her rabbit buried between a pair of shapely, pale legs covered with thigh-length black socks and black flying boots. "Waka! _Daijyoubu?!_" Kunika shouted with concern as she picked up her brown rabbit. The rabbit in question, Wakamaru (or Waka for short), twitched his nose at Kunika. He looked none the worst for his accident. Apparently, running into someone's, eh, nether regions produced more indignation than injury. "_Yokatta!_ I'm glad you're okay!" Kunika said with relief as she hugged the rabbit to her chest.

"So you reserve your concern for your rabbit and not your commanding officer, _ja_?" A voice said from under Kunika with barely restrained anger.

"Ah?" Kunika looked down to see a blonde, green-eyed girl wearing the black uniform of a Karlsland Night Witch. The girl in question was the 506th Joint Fighter Wing's Commanding Officer in Battle, _Major _Heinrike Prinzessin zu Sayn-Wittgenstein. In other words, Kunika's CO, whom she just knocked down and is currently straddling.

"Erk!" Kunika practically leapt off Wittgenstein. "_Gomennasai! _I'm truly sorry!" She yelled as she bowed in apology.

Heinrike slowly got up, dusted herself off, and glared at Kunika as she went into lecture mode. "Now look, _Oberleutnant_ Kuroda! As a member of nobility, you should strive for nothing less than perfection in performing your duties and grace under pressure. That, _Oberleutnant_, was neither! What kind of example do you think you are showing to the men if you run around like this? Disgraceful!"

All the while, Kunika just kept bowing repeatedly in apology. Honestly, she bore more than a passing resemblance to a dipping bird by this point.

Adriana chose that moment to step in. "Come on, Heinrike. Don't be too hard on the _signorina_, it was just bad luck that she happened to run into you like that. It could've happened to anybody," she said calmingly, with a tone one might use with an infuriated cat.

Unfortunately, the cat in question would have none of it.

"Don't use that excuse, _Hauptmann!_ As a member of the 506th Joint Fighter Wing, _Oberleutnant_ Kuroda should display the utmost perfect skill and elegance in any task as befitting her noble blood. And another thing, stop referring to me by 'Heinrike'! It's disrespectful to the chain of command and…"

Adriana had by that point tuned her out. Instead, she picked up one of the fallen reports and looked it over. "Huh, let's see…huh, the Neuroi have been silent for a while. Feh, maybe they got scared and they're hiding like little _topolini_," she said smugly.

That last bit of information combined with Adriana's dismissive tone snapped Heinrike out of lecture mode. "Are you honestly that thick-headed? True, in the beginning even my 6-year old sister could have thought up better tactics than they did, but even you should have noticed that they're getting smarter and smarter as the war dragged on. We'd be fools to underestimate them," she said.

Adriana looked contemplative. "You know what? We should be hitting the Neuroi right now; throwing _them_ off-balance instead the other way around," she said.

"You mean flushing them out?" Isaac suggested.

Adriana nodded. "_Si_, exactly like flushing them out. That way, we can shoot them all down in one fell swoop so we can get at the hives and destroy the Neuroi once and for all!"

Heinrike shook her head. "It won't work. There's no way to tell how many of them are there. The reconnaissance reports from the _Nachthexes_ aren't enough, and daylight reconnaissance is suicide with the anti-air defenses the Neuroi have."

"Like flushing a tiger then. And a man-eating tiger at that," Isaac concluded.

"_Ano,_" Kunika interrupted, holding the stack of reports that'd been scattered on the ground before she collected them. "Would you mind if I can have that back? I still have to deliver these to Commander Grunne," she asked Adriana, who was still holding the report.

"Oh, it's alright. I'll read them here if you don't mind," a soft voice says from across the room.

Kunika snapped around. The source of the voice was a turquoise-eyed woman wearing the black, collared uniform of the Belgican Army with white tights and black flying boots. Her blonde hair was tied back in a braid that encircled the base of her neck. In truth, her appearance was more in line with that of a princess rather than as the Honorary Commander of the 506th Joint Fighter Wing: Wing Commander Rosalie de Hemricourt de Grunne.

She was chosen to be the commander for two reasons: one was her outstanding combat record, the other was her lineage. Being the eldest child of a Belgican duke and a Gallian duchess, she was therefore the heir to both families. She was even in line for the Crown of Britannia, albeit through a distant connection. Though she rarely exercised it and had little desire to do so, Rosalie wielded considerable power and influence amongst the nobility of Europe. It was this woman who was standing there, smiling at Kunika.

Kunika quickly snapped off a salute, nearly dropping her stack of reports again. Fortunately, for once, she caught it before it could fall and handed it over to Rosalie. "Here you go Squadron Leader, ma'am! I have the reports right here!" Kunika shouted stiffly.

Rosalie took it with a smile. "Thank you, Ms. Kunika."

Kunika remained standing stiffly at attention.

Fortunately, Rosalie noticed. "And you don't have to worry. Your pay is quite safe."

Kunika relaxed and sighed in relief.

Isaac remembered what was in her hands and walked over to Rosalie. "Here's the other reports, by the way," she said casually.

"And thank you too, Ms. Isaac," Rosalie thanked.

Rosalie made her way to the sofa with the combined stack of reports. She set it down on the table next to the sofa and began to read through them. When all's said and done, it was quite a hefty stack. Fortunately, her time as a desk jockey had given her the ability to read and analyze reports at a very rapid pace. Rosalie went through the stack like a rabbit through a carrot patch.

"Oh, one more," Adriana said as she handed Rosalie the report she'd been holding.

Rosalie scanned through that report as well.

'_They've been launching raids into our lines since we landed, and now they've suddenly decided to stop? Something's wrong. The Neuroi aren't stupid, at least not always. What are they up to?'_ Rosalie thought to herself.

"So what do you think? Too quiet, _si?_" Adriana asked after Rosalie had finished reading the last report.

Rosalie sighed. "You are correct, Ms. Adriana. However, there's not much we can do at this point. We just simply lack enough information on the Neuroi lines to do anything more than react to what they throw at us."

Heinrike lost her temper and slammed her foot into the floor. "_Verdammt!_ Can't we do anything other than respond to what the Neuroi do?! If we just keep reacting to whatever they send over the Rhine, we'll never regain the initiative!"

Adriana snapped her fingers. "I got an idea. How about we go take a reconnaissance flight of our own? And while we're at it, we smash up some of their AA and make it easier for the other witches," she suggested.

Heinrike glared at her. "Are you insane? Those AA sitesthe Neuroi have on the riverbank are accurate enough at _night_! Do you want to give them an easier target to shoot down?!"

"Well it beats sitting around waiting for the Neuroi to do something, doesn't it? If you've got a better plan, why don't you tell us, o great Squadron Leader?" Adriana asked mockingly.

If looks could kill, the impact of the two witches' glares would have caused a nuclear fusion reaction that would have incinerated not only the base, but most of the surrounding countryside as well. Kunika and Isaac looked back and forth at them nervously. Waka, sensing the tension, decided to do the smart thing and hid behind his owner's leg.

Suddenly, there was a loud thump. All of them turned to look at Wing Commander de Grunne with her hands on the table where she'd slammed them down, hard. Hard enough to crack the surface.

"Now why don't we all calm down and relax, okay? Ms. Heinrike? Ms. Adriana?" Wing Commander de Grunne suggested in a tone that was both a suggestion and a command.

The two of them stopped glaring at each other and allowed the tension to go back down to something less stifling. Rosalie relaxed and she went back to her usual self.

"There, now-"

A wailing cry echoed through the base, the sound of the air raid siren instantly dispelling whatever it was she was about to say.

Wing Commander de Grunne reached up and switched on her throat mike. "Radar control, what's the situation?" she asked, all traces of her former gentleness gone as she went into combat mode.

"**Ma'am, we've got 5 contacts on radar, heading to one of our forward bases. It looks a large Neuroi on a bombing run with 2 mediums and 4 smaller Neuroi flying in formation around it in an escort pattern."**

"Understood. We'll be scrambling immediately." She took her finger off her ear. "You heard the man, move out!"

Every one of the witches heads to the hangar, hurrying without getting in each other's way as they'd learned to do in the time they've been here.

"Escorts, huh. And it looks like they're sending a mix of units this time. That's unusual," said Heinrike, thinking about how the Neuroi usually either send in swarms of a single type or just a single powerful unit.

"So what if they're sending more than one type at once? Who cares? They're just more kills for my tally," Adriana said dismissively.

"But if they are doing something new, shouldn't we be more careful?" Kunika asked.

"The most dangerous game is one that can think and reason. I'm bringing more ammo for my Solothurn, just in case," Isaac said.

"As Kunika said, this is unusual behavior from the Neuroi, so watch it out there," Squadron Leader de Grunne concluded.

"Roger!" everyone shouted.

Arriving at the hangar, Adriana, Kunika, and Isaac grabbed their weapons from beside their Strikers. Only they would be going on sortie. Rosalie was staying behind due to her failing magic as she was nearing 20. Instead, she served as A-unit's operator, relaying information and coordinates to the squadron during combat as well as planning tactics and strategies for them. Heinrike was needed for night missions, so she'll be staying behind as well, admittedly with extreme reluctance considering how her hand was twitching near her favored Beretta M1934 pistol in its hip holster.

Adriana grabbed her favorite weapon, a 9-barreled rocket launcher firing 20mm HE rockets from the rack beside her Striker. Designated the "Fliegerhammer" by the Karlslandan scientists who developed it, it had a maximum range of 500 meters, though its unguided nature forced many witches to move in much closer than that before firing. As backup weapons, she carried a Beretta Modello 38 submachine gun from her homeland as well as a dozen Liberion Mk. 2 hand grenades in a bandolier.

Kunika's weapon of choice was a Type 99 light machine gun she brought from Fuso. While she has had trouble obtaining the 7.7x58mm Arisaka ammunition for it in Gallia, it had served her well during her time there so she continued to use it. It originally came with a Fuso-style sword bayonet, but she quickly realized how useless it was when it became apparent that the weapon's flash hider obstructed the bayonet too much to make it be useful. Instead, she now kept it in its scabbard on her belt for use as a backup weapon (though the only thing she's ever cut with it so far were fruits and vegetables). Aside from that, she carried no sidearm, instead using the extra space to carry more magazines for her Type 99.

Isaac's weapon was even longer than she was tall, at almost 216 cm (7 ft 1 in) compared to her 162 cm (5 ft 4 in). It was called the Solothurn S-18/1000 anti-tank rifle. Isaac tended to think of the Neuroi as really big game animals, so she had asked Squadron Leader Wittgenstein for the biggest rifle she could think of, hence this monster. It fired the 20x138mmB Long Solothurn round, which was available in a variety of ammunition types. Its high caliber combined with its high velocity added to Isaac's magic made the Solothurn rifle powerful enough to dispatch most smaller Neuroi with a single shot. For a sidearm, Isaac preferred to carry a Britannian Webley Mk VI revolver for its high caliber and stopping power with a couple of speedloaders for it in one pouch and loose rounds in another pouch.

After grabbing their weapons, they ran over to and jumped into their Striker Units: flying machines made by combining magic and technology in order for witches to more effectively fight Neuroi. They not only allowed the witches to fly with great speed and agility, they also generated the witches' magic shield and enhanced the witches' physical abilities to the point where they could wield even crew-served weaponry as if they were regular firearms.

Adriana's machine was a Romagna-made MC.205V striker, nicknamed the "_Veltro_". As she started it up, the tufted ears and fluffy tail of a caracal–her familiar–popped out and a magic circle appeared underneath her. Her Striker's magic propellers popped out as green blades and started up with a whir. "This is _Capitano_ Visconti, taking off!" she shouted as she sped through the open door of the hangar.

As Isaac jumped into her Ultramarine Spitfire Mk XXII striker, the grey, floppy ears of a Bouviers des Flandres dog as well as the accompanying tail popped out. "Pilot Officer Bergendal here, I'm taking off!" she shouted as she followed after Adriana.

Kunika's Striker was originally a Ki-43 striker brought over from Fuso. Unfortunately, it broke down upon her arrival in Gallia. While it was being repaired, Kunika decided to use a Karlsland-made Messerscharf Bf. 109K striker as a replacement. She has since then become quite fond of the Bf. 109K and has continued to use it despite her Ki-43 being fully repaired. In her case, as she started up her Striker, the pointed ears and curly tail of a Shiba Inu dog popped out. "Kuroda-_chūi_, I mean, First Lieutenant Kuroda, taking off!" she shouted as she took off after the other two at full speed, nearly clipping a maintenance crane in the process.

Soon, the three of them were off in the sky heading towards the five Neuroi.

* * *

**506****th**** A-Unit Base Ops Center**

**Wing Commander Rosalie de Hemricourt de Grunne**

**1050 hours**

In the base's ops center, Rosalie and Heinrike stared at the contacts on the radar screen over the radar operator's shoulder. Waka had followed them and was sitting next to Rosalie's feet, his second-favorite person after Kunika. The 3 witches heading towards the Neuroi were shown as a group of green dots while the much larger Neuroi looked more like splotches on the screen.

"What's the ETA until those Neuroi reach the forward base?" Wing Commander de Grunne asked.

"ETA is 35 minutes. They have until then to shoot them down," the radar operator reported calmly.

"Only 35 minutes. Is that going to be enough time?" Heinrike wondered worriedly.

Just then, Rosalie heard a voice coming from the long-range radio unit behind her. **"This is Lieutenant Colonel Preddy, does anyone copy, over?"** a quiet voice asked with a Britannish accent.

Rosalie went over and answered the radio. "This is Rosalie, I copy. What's the situation, Geena?"

"**I'm reporting the deployment of B-Unit for the interception of the Neuroi group headed for the Allied forward base near the no man's land. What's the status of A-Unit?"**

'_Oh, dear.'_

Rosalie looked back at the radar screen. Sure enough, there were three more green dots heading towards the same group of Neuroi A-Unit had been sent to dispatch.

"…**A-Unit has been deployed as well, haven't they?"**

Rosalie sighed. "Yes."

"**This…could get sticky then."** Geena concluded.

Heinrike facepalmed herself. "_Scheiße._ That's an understatement if I've ever heard one."

* * *

**Somewhere over northeastern Gallia**

**First Lieutenant Kunika Kuroda**

**1050 hours**

"Uh, Visconti-san, where are the Neuroi?" Kunika asked as they were speeding above the clouds towards their targets.

"They're close. Should be any minute now. Isaac, do you see anything from up there?"

The 3 witches flew in a loose formation at staggered heights, with Isaac keeping watch above the other two through the scope of her Solothurn rifle.

"I see the Neuroi. One large Neuroi with two mediums flying on either side and four smaller Neuroi flying in tight formation around it just like the radar operator said. The Large Neuroi is a Manta-class. The two mediums are Laros-class. I don't recognize the 4 others though. They look like long tubes with blunt noses and long swept-back wings with T-tails. They're probably new," Isaac reported.

"Heh. New or not, my Fliegerhammer's going to smash them into dust," Adriana declared.

Then a voice erupted in the two witches' ear radios. **"This is Rosalie, do you copy?"**

"I copy, go ahead." Adriana answered.

"**According to Lieutenant Colonel Preddy, B-Unit has been sent here as well, so watch where you're shooting."**

'_Ah! Marian-san, Jennifer-chan, and Carla-chan are going to come too! Yes!' _Kunika thought happily.

Adriana meanwhile, scoffed. "B-Unit? We don't need those Liberions to help us. We can take care of these Neuroi by ourselves."

Kunika was a bit flustered by that remark and laughed nervously. "_Ano-_"

"Two of the new Neuroi just broke away from formation! They're heading right for us!" Isaac shouted.

"Kuroda, on me! We'll hit them as they come for us! Isaac, snipe them from afar and expose their cores for us, will you?!" Adriana shouted.

"_Hai!_"

"Roger."

The two of them readied their weapons, while Isaac aimed down the scope of her Solothurn at one of the approaching Neuroi. As she stared down the scope at them, she noticed that the Neuroi had a hole at its nose surrounded by red weapons panels.

'_Hm, that's odd. Wonder what's that hole for? Oh well, it doesn't matter, as long as I can shoot it down,'_ she thought.

When she'd judged the Neuroi to be about 3 kilometers out, she pulled the trigger. The massive rifle bucked in her hands, sending a 20mm HEI-T round at the Neuroi at about 850 m/s. At that range, it would've taken about 3.5 seconds to reach its target, plenty of time to dodge it. The only reason Isaac fired at that range was because the Neuroi usually didn't dodge.

In this case though, this Neuroi did dodge, swerving to one side.

"Tch!" _'They're usually too dumb to even do that. I guess they're learning or they're training them better, however the bloody hell they're training them anyway,'_ thought Isaac.

"Did you get it?" Adriana asked.

"Wait, hold on…"

Isaac then activated her magic ability, Trajectory Manipulation. Classified in the Telekinesis System Lineage of magic, it was similar to the Ballistic Stabilization ability except that the former allowed the user a greater degree of control over the bullet's flight path. The degree of control was so great, Isaac could even make the bullet chase a Neuroi across the sky if she concentrated hard enough, though it lost muzzle velocity quickly if used in that regard.

In any rate, Isaac waited until the HEI-T bullet was only a hundred meters away from the Neuroi before suddenly swerving it into the black alien craft. The bullet erupted onto the Neuroi skin in a blinding flash of RDX high explosives and zinc incendiaries, sending chunks of Neuroi falling off that quickly crumbled into white shards upon being separated from the main body.

Isaac grinned behind the scope of her rifle. It was the grin of a hunter who'd successfully hit her prey. "Got it. Just a couple more shots and-"

Suddenly, Isaac saw the back of the Neurois glow and erupt in white light. The 2 Neurois rocketed forward at extremely high speeds.

"Watch out!"

Adriana and Kunika had heard Isaac's warning and seen the white glow erupt from the two black dots in the distance. Even then, they only just had time to put up their shields before laser fire hammered against them like a horizontal hailstorm. They couldn't even get their weapons up before the Neuroi rocketed through their formation, throwing them off-balance with ear-shattering sonic booms and leaving behind trails of condensation.

As it passed by Kunika, she managed to note the new Neuroi's design despite the high speed of the alien craft using her magic ability, 3D Target Analysis. Classified in the Perception Lineage of magic, 3D Target Analysis allowed Kunika to quickly analyze and discern information about any single unit within a 500 meter radius regardless of whether it was in her line of sight or not. Her ability basically allowed her to examine the entire surface of her target in an instant, as if it were a 3D model. The catch was that she could only focus on one target at a time. Anything she wasn't focused on appeared as a fuzzy blur to her senses. She would be aware of its presence and general shape, but that was it.

As for the new Neuroi, Kunika noted that the Isaac's description of them was mostly accurate, save for the hole (which for some reason was bisected into two halves) at the front that seemed to lead into a hollow cavity running through its body, which led to some kind of exhaust port at the rear of the tube, which appeared to be the source of their impressive speed. She also noted something else: all of the red hexagonal panels–indicating weapon ports–were surrounding the hole on its nose. She realized it must be specialized for attack instead of defense. Kunika then noticed the two Neuroi were now heading straight for Isaac. "Isaac-chan! Look out!" she shouted.

The Neuroi were already firing at Isaac as Kunika shouted out her warning. Isaac managed to only snap off a single shot, so thick was the storm of lasers directed against her. It smashed against the nose of the leading Neuroi, destroying some of its weapon ports and quite possibly saving her own life. As it was, she just managed to swerve out of the way of the laser fire and blocked the ones she couldn't dodge with her shield as the two Neuroi rocketed past her. Isaac quickly rejoined Kunika and Adriana after that.

"_Cazzo!_ What was that?!" Adriana cursed. "How did they get so fast?!"

"Maybe that white flame coming from their rears are the reason for that?" Kunika suggested, before wincing and laughing nervously from Adriana's glare for pointing out the obvious.

"Wing Commander, did you see those Neuroi, specifically their speed?" Isaac asked.

"**Yes. These are the fastest Neuroi we've ever seen. We've estimated their speeds to be at almost Mach 1 and climbing. I'm currently working with Ms. Heinrike to come up with a strategy to defeat them. In the meantime, be careful."**

"They're coming around for another pass," Isaac, using the scope of her Solothurn, reported.

"Kuroda, Isaac, open up on them! Keep them from getting a bead on us!" Adriana ordered.

Isaac fired at the two Neuroi at about 8 kilometers, using her ability to steer the bullets into the Neuroi. The Neuroi she'd hit before had already recovered by then and it and its partner waited until just before they hit before dodging. Despite her best efforts, only two of Isaac's bullets hit the Neuroi by the time her weapon clicked empty. Not only that, one was a glancing hit that barely did any damage. Isaac cursed herself as she frantically reloaded, but she knew she wouldn't make it before they opened up on her and her team.

Kunika opened up on them with her Type 99 as soon as she saw the black dots in the distance. At that range, her chances of hitting them with her LMG were about the same as if she were firing with her eyes closed. She quickly realized her mistake and ceased fire, but not before expending 24 rounds out of her current 30-round magazine. She scrambled to reload, but the Neuroi had already closed the distance while she was still inserting a new mag.

Adriana fired all nine rockets in her Fliegerhammer at the two Neuroi. The unguided nature of the rockets meant that the Neuroi were easily able to dodge and weave through the rockets' flight trajectories…or so they thought. When the rockets were directly in front of the Neuroi, Adriana activated her magic ability, Blast Force, with a snap of her fingers. Classified in the Attack Lineage of magic, Blast Force allowed Adriana to imbue an object with an explosive ether. The ether could turn each bullet into a mini-grenade and it even enhanced the power of explosive weaponry. The projectile automatically exploded on contact with its target, but it also exploded if the user stopped focusing on it. While this could be a recipe for disaster if the witch lost concentration, it could also allow the witch in question to detonate the projectile on command by simply ceasing their focus on it, such as in this case.

Adriana started to grin, as she thought the Neuroi were going too fast to avoid the billowing cloud of flames and shrapnel. But then the two Neuroi appeared from behind the explosions, only just barely scraping the edges of the deadly clouds. The three witches had to cease their attacks and put up their shields as the Neuroi hammered them with laser fire once more before zooming through their formation and disappearing again into the distance.

"Feh! Those things are more maneuverable than I thought. Looks like only a direct hit is going to work against these things," said Adriana.

"Ehh?! But didn't you see how fast they were! How are we supposed to hit those things!" Kunika pointed out.

"Not just that. These guys can fire faster and farther than previous Neuroi. They'll just sweep through us again if we do the same thing," Isaac also pointed out.

Adriana thought for a moment. "Then we just split up and force them to spread out their fire. That way, we can outflank them while they-"

"It won't work," Isaac interrupted. "At their speed, neither you nor Kunika will be able to see them coming before they hit you. That plan of yours will just give them a chance to pick us off one by one, like calves that have strayed from the protection of the herd."

"We're not cows," Adriana said testily.

"No, but we might as well be with those wolves after us," Isaac countered.

The two of them glared at each other in a battle of wills while Kunika watched nervously as her friends and squadron mates now seem to be more interested in fighting with each other than with the Neuroi.

'_Uwaah! We just don't have enough witches for this. If only we had more witches on our side, we could-'_

"Kunikaaa!" A voice called from some distance behind Kunika, interrupting her thoughts.

She turned around just in time for a brown-haired, brown-eyed girl wearing the blue collared suit, white undershirt, and necktie of the United States of Liberion Marine Corps (USMC for short) to crash into her while collecting her in a warm embrace, both literally and figuratively since she had been flying at maximum speed for the entire trip from Dijon and was sweating like a pig. The hug was so sudden, she nearly clobbered Kunika over the head with her massive M3 autocannon, the US production of the Hispano Suiza HS.404 Mk. V in service with Britannia.

"Jennifer-chan, you've made it!" Kunika exclaimed happily as she returned the hug, who in turn nearly brained the Liberion girl with her Type 99 in her eagerness (though in truth, the M3 would have hurt a lot more).

Captain Jennifer J. DeBlanc giggled at the return hug. "Ah, but I'm not the only one," she said as she pointed back in the direction she came from.

Two dots were rapidly approaching into view, quickly becoming discernable as two witches wearing Liberion uniforms. One wore the dress blues of the USMC like Jennifer with her blond hair streaming about her as she flew. The other wore the olive drab coat of the US Army Air Force with a white scarf wrapped around her neck and had a paler shade of blonde hair tied into a pair of unbraided pigtails trailing behind her.

The sight of Jennifer and the approaching witches had caused Adriana and Isaac to break off their argument.

"Oh, great. The Liberions are here," Adriana muttered.

Isaac meanwhile, was staring at the sight of Jennifer still hugging Kunika. _'So this is the 'Jennifer-chan' Kunika talks about? What's so great about her? I don't see anything special about her. What does she have that I don't?'_ went through Isaac's mind as she stared, no, glared at Jennifer.

While Kunika was happily oblivious to the hostility being directed at her friend, Jennifer was not of the same mind. She wasn't bothered by it though. In fact she was curious. However, she decided to ignore it for the time being to concentrate on her happy reunion.

The blond witch in USMC dress blues was the first to arrive. She stared at the sight of Kunika and Jessica hugging in the middle of a battle. "You girls do realize we're in the middle of a raging battle against aliens from God-knows-where, do you?" she asked sarcastically.

Jennifer pouted at the blond girl. "Oh, come on, Marian! It's just for a moment. Don't be such a spoilsport."

While Captain Marian E. Carl was not particularly a stickler for rules, even she felt they needed to be enforced in this case. "Look, Jennifer." A vein had begun to bulge on Marian's temple from her anger. "Don't you have night patrol? Should you really be wasting your time with this?"

Jennifer's response was to stick her tongue out at her superior. "Aw, lighten up. I can just take a nap right before I go. Besides, the Princess does that all the time," Jennifer said, using one of Heinrike's other nicknames (by the way, she particularly hates this one).

Meanwhile, Jennifer's answer didn't satisfy Marian. If anything, the pulsing vein on her temple got bigger. "That's not the point." Marian ground out.

Adriana, who'd been watching the scene, observed Marian with interest. "Well, I'd thought all of you Liberions were loose and fun-loving. I never thought one of you would be as straight-laced as Heinrike," she said with a smirk.

"**I heard that, **_**Hauptmann**_** Visconti."** Heinrike said testily over the radio.

Next to Marian, the blond girl with the twin pigtails, First Lieutenant Carla J. Luksic, had long since arrived and was now pointing with her specially modified M2 Browning machine gun at the horizon and said, "Shouldn't you guys be worrying less about arguing and more on the Neuroi that can fly past the speed of sound?"

As if on cue, two black dots appeared in the distance where Carla just happened to be pointing. The witches quickly raised their shields as the black dots rapidly grew larger and fired barrages of laser fire at the girls.

As the two Neuroi rocketed past the witches once more, Jennifer shook her fist at them. "Hey, you _capullos_! How dare you ruin our touching reunion!" she screamed angrily at the retreating dots while still shaking her little fist at them. Her magic antennae manifested itself as a glowing circular radar display in front of her right eye, glowing red this time due to her anger. After a few more seconds of Jennifer throwing a fit, she turned back to the other witches, huffing and puffing at her little show of anger. "Okay, I'm ready. Now let's kick their shiny, metal asses so we can actually have a proper reunion," she said, still huffing and puffing.

Marian grinned. "Now that's what I'm talking about! Alright, witches! Form up on me, we'll go blast these Neuroi apart!"

With a loud cheer, the three Liberion witches roared off in pursuit of the Neuroi.

Which happened to have left behind a certain _very_ ticked-off Romagnan witch in their wake. "Well, come on! Do you want them to steal our kills out from under us?!" Adriana shouted.

"No!" Isaac shouted, though she was more concerned about Jennifer showing her up than anything else.

Kunika knew this was the wrong way to deal with the Neuroi. "_Ano…_"

"_Bene!_ Now let's go after them! _Presto!_"

Before poor Kunika could get anything out, Adriana and Isaac had already zoomed off after the Liberions in their mad pursuit. Breaking into cold sweat, Kunika zoomed off after them, if only to avoid getting separated. She had a bad feeling about how this was going to end.

* * *

**Captain Jennifer J. DeBlanc**

**1061 hours**

'_Those _hijos de punta_, I'll teach them to shoot at my friends!'_ thought Jennifer as she and her squadron raced after the Neuroi. And she had the skills and guts to do just that.

Unfortunately, she had to catch them first. As for how that was turning out…

"Is it just me, or are they getting away from us?" Carla asked. The shrinking black dots of the Neuroi seemed to prove her point.

"Come on! Let's go faster!" Jennifer shouted, trying to push the engines of her night-black Grumman F7F-3N Tigercat striker past its maximum speed.

"In case you haven't noticed, we're already redlining our engines and they're still faster than we are. Damn bastards," Marian muttered.

Jennifer glanced at her superior officer and saw a strange mixture of anger and envy warring on Marian's face. Despite her anger, Jennifer almost giggled as she thought of how speed-obsessed Marian was and how she must be fuming at the thought of the Neuroi being faster than her.

"Alright, cut your engines! We're not going to catch them this way," Marian finally ordered.

Jennifer was about to protest when she noticed the black dots in the distance suddenly crossed each other and started getting bigger. "Look out!"

The three Liberions got their shields up just in time as laser fire slammed into them, sending them rocking back from the impacts. The Neuroi, having finished another attack run, rocketed through their formation, leaving white contrails and some very off-balance witches behind.

"Shit! After them!" Marian shouted, initiating a pursuit back in the direction they came from.

Unfortunately, they had no idea of the disaster they were about to fly into.

* * *

**First Lieutenant Kunika Kuroda**

**1062 hours**

"They're coming this way!" Isaac shouted as the black dots in the distance rapidly increased in size.

"All witches, engage!" Adriana shouted.

All three witches followed this order with varying degrees of action. Isaac halted her flight. Remembering what'd happened the last time she tried to engage them directly, she decided to try something different this time. She started firing her Solothurn in seemingly random directions confined only to a wide cone in front of her.

Meanwhile, Kunika, also remembering her abominable accuracy before, decided to hold her fire until the Neuroi were close enough to at least have a realistic chance of hitting them. The time window would only be a second or two considering the Neuroi's high speed, but it would be far better than wasting her ammo trying to hit them from afar.

Adrian, who'd also held her fire, was about to pull the trigge on her Fliegerfaust when suddenly, one of the Neuroi was staggered by small explosions, screeching in agony as 20mm HEI bullets smashed into it from multiple angles.

Isaac had been using her Trajectory Manipulation to steer the 20mm bullets from her Solothurn into the Neuroi from unorthodox directions. Sure, the bullets lost a lot of velocity by they reached their targets, but the HEI payload they carried made up for the lack of muzzle velocity. Isaac had fired her entire 10-round magazine at the two Neuroi-well, one of the Neuroi. Considering she had to control 10 different projectiles and steer them into their target, just trying to hit one target was difficult enough.

Despite her control however, some things still inevitably went wrong. 2 of the bullets missed completely and another 3 scored only glancing hits, bouncing off and doing nothing but creasing the Neuroi's tough skin.

The other 5 though, were direct hits. One took its left wingtip off. Another smashed its main body and took a big chunk of Neuroi off. 2 of them hit next to each other near the base of its other and basically sawed the wing off, sending it tumbling away and crumbing into white shards. The last one should have been a miss like its unfortunate brethren, but the loss of one wing left the Neuroi off-balance. This caused it swerve into the path of the bullet which allowed the bullet to hit a critical spot on the Neuroi: its exhaust port.

The now deformed exhaust port caused the Neuroi to spiral out of control and slam into its brethren, knocking it away. The out of control Neuroi screamed as it more-or-less spiraled into the general direction of the 3 witches, but in its current state was unable to shoot at them.

Adriana saw her chance and fired her entire 9-round clip at the Neuroi. Most of them missed, but two-by chance-smashed into the Neuroi, one of them piercing the core and smashing it into oblivion. With its core destroyed, the rest of the Neuroi exploded into white shards that drifted down like falling snow.

Adrian, ecstatic from her victory, allowed the rest of her rockets to self-destruct.

Had she remembered who was chasing the Neuroi, she would not have been so quick to self-destruct them.

* * *

**Captain Jennifer J. DeBlanc**

**1062 hours**

Jennifer lifted up her 20mm autocannon and aimed down its sights at the distant Neuroi. _'Almost there-'_

Jennifer's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by one of the Neuroi suddenly staggering in the air.

"What the-"

Then the Neuroi exploded and several fireballs erupted less than a hundred meters in front of her and her wingmates.

"Shit! Evade, evade!" Marian screamed.

But it was no use. Their flight speed was just too great to change their courses. A second later, they flew right through the expanding explosions and the clouds of shrapnel they were generating. Had they been mundane soldiers, they would have been shredded into hamburger by the fast-moving fragments of metal. Luckily for them, they had their magic shields that blocked the shrapnel and prevented that potentially gruesome fate.

Unfortunately, while the shields prevented the shrapnel from getting through, the heat and flames of the explosions themselves billowed around their shields, exposing their bodies to some painfully high temperatures. The only one of the witches who didn't get burned was Carla Luksic, and that was only because of her magic ability, Ether Cooling, which allowed her to cool anything down using ether and generated a more-or-less permanent bubble of cold air around her due to the ether present in the atmosphere, so she felt a warm breeze on her instead. The other two weren't so lucky and got first and second-degree burns from the explosions.

The effects were as followed:

1. It was extremely painful (save for Carla).

2. The ammunition that wasn't in their pockets cooked off from the heat, causing further injuries and destroying their primary weapons (again, save for Carla, you lucky girl).

3. They had to cover their eyes to protect them from the explosion (alas, even Carla did this reflexively).

It was the third effect that was responsible for what happened immediately afterwards.

* * *

**First Lieutenant Kunika Kuroda**

**1062 hours**

Kunika and her wingmates watched the remaining Neuroi stabilize its flight path, turn, and zoom away screeching its fury at having its wingmate destroyed.

Adriana and Isaac prepared to give chase to the remaining Neuroi. Kunika started to do the same, but she as distracted by something she thought she heard when Adriana's rockets self-destructed.

'_Were those…screams?'_ she wondered worriedly.

Kunika quickly activated her magic ability. She sensed that 3 units were headed right for her flight. Since she couldn't analyze all of them, she focused on the one flying right at her. To her shock and horror, it was Jennifer, and she had terrible burns on her face and hands and her once navy blue uniform was scorched black at her shoulders and upper arms. Kunika also detected shrapnel buried in her friend's hands and also saw that the cause was the Johnson LMG's chamber bursting as the round in it cooked off.

"_Abunai!_" Kunika screamed.

Both Adriana and Isaac started to turn around just as Marian and Carla collided with them respectively, sending them all tumbling in the air.

* * *

**506****th**** A-Unit Base Ops Center**

**Wing Commander Rosalie de Hemricourt de Grunne**

**1062 hours**

Rosalie was looking down in dismay and Heinrike was groaning with a hand pressed against her face as they listened to the chaos unfolding in the air.

"I knew it might turn out to be bad with those two units out there, but this?" Heinrike groaned. "_Mein gott._"

"**Well what kind of results do you think we're going to get from two units who never work together? Bloody hell, our units don't even **_**talk**_** to one another."** Geena said over the radio.

Rosalie looked down again, but this time it was in shame. "I'm sorry, Geena. If I'd been more forceful with them, then maybe-"

"**Don't be. I was there, remember? I still remember how pompous those blue-blooded brainless idiots were. There was no way in hell anything you said could have convinced them. They've got their heads jammed so far up their collective noble arses, they need to pipe in air through their royal navels."**

Rosalie couldn't quite suppress a rueful smirk. "I can't tell if you're trying to make me feel better or not."

"**Am I? I'm pretty sure I'm just venting my frustrations against idiots in high places. If it makes you feel better, I'll just call it an unintended side effect."**

Rosalie couldn't quite suppress a giggle this time. Even Heinrike felt her spirits being lifted after that exchange.

After Rosalie was finished with her moment of hilarity, she cleared her throat and said, "Well then, I suppose we should put our heads together and come up with some kind of a plan to deal with these new Neuroi. That's what we're here for, after all."

"**Agreed. Squadron Leader Wittgenstein, would you mind lending us your noggin as well?"**

Heinrike bristled at the suggestion. "Of course, I would. I mean, I wouldn't. I mean…agh! Of course I'll help! _Verdammt Britanisch,_" she muttered under her breath.

Rosalie smiled at her vice-commander's fervent reply and switched off her ear radio in order to focus on planning. She worked far better without distractions. "Good. Now let's begin…"

* * *

**Somewhere over northeastern Gallia**

**First Lieutenant Kunika Kuroda**

**1062 hours**

Kunika, meanwhile, quickly spread her arms out and propelled herself backwards, gradually decreasing speed to match up with Jennifer's forward momentum so that the impact didn't jar her injured friend.

"Jennifer-chan, are you okay?!" Kunika asked worriedly as they were hovering there, carefully holding her friend by her uninjured arms.

Jennifer slowly opened her eyes. "Ow, ow, ow. Wait, hold on." Jennifer closed her eyes again and a soft blue glow enveloped her entire body as she used her magic ability, Metabolic Healing. Classified in the telekinesis lineage of magic, Metabolic Healing works by increasing the natural healing speed of a target organism to several times normal speed, allowing the target to recover from even life-threatening wounds. Her powers can even be used on herself, as in this case.

Jennifer hissed in pain as her burns quickly started to knit together and any shrapnel in her was pushed out by her magic. She only had to endure it for a few seconds though before her wounds had completely closed up with nary a mark on her. When it was over, she sighed with relief.

"There, that's better, now," Jennifer's eyes widened as she remembered what had happened. "Oh, shit! Marian! Carla!" she shouted as she rushed over to where her two wingmates had finally stopped tumbling with Kunika following closely behind.

"Agh! Get off me, get off!" Marian screamed as she flailed out of Adriana's grasp.

"Hey, what's wrong?! Why are you-" Adriana cut herself off as she noticed the burn marks on Marian's face and arms. "How did-" Again, Adriana cut herself off and her olive complexion turned several shades paler as she realized that it was the result of her own explosions that'd injured the Liberion witch. "I-I'm sorry, I-"

"Excuse me! Coming through!" Jennifer unintentionally interrupted as she shoved Adriana aside in her haste to get to Marian. "Are you okay, Marian? How many fingers am I holding up?"

Marian blinked at the strange question. "Three, I guess? Does your thumb count as a finger?" she asked.

Jennifer looked at her right hand and saw that indeed she was holding up two fingers plus her thumb. "Okay, good. No concussion. Now hold still." She said quickly as she held her hands against Marian's wounds. Marian's sharp hiss of pain as her wounds began healing at an accelerated pace was in sharp contrast to the soft blue glow emanating from Jennifer's hands. "Carla! Are you hurt anywhere?!" Jennifer shouted while she continued healing Marian.

Carla untangled herself from Isaac's grasp and looked herself over. After which, she flashed Jennifer a thumbs-up. "Nope. Not a scratch on me," the blond witch answered cheerfully.

'_Lucky girl,'_ the witches thought, save for Adriana.

The Romagnan witch was staring down, lost in her guilt at causing this. After Jennifer had finished healing Marian, Adriana flew in front of Marian. She swallowed her pride and said, "Look, I'm sorry, for what it's worth. I didn't know you three were flying towards us, so…"

Marian glared at her with a gaze that matched a blizzard in intensity and temperature. She as still quite angry that Adriana had almost gotten her flight killed. "_You didn't know? _Well maybe if you'd bothered to check with us on the radio, then maybe we could have avoided getting our asses burned like that."

Adriana's cheeks flushed with anger in response to that cold delivery. "Well I would have if your radios were set to the same frequency as ours!" she shouted hotly.

"Well maybe if your commander had not agreed to split our wing into two units separated by over 180 miles, we would be using the same frequency," Marian retorted coldly.

Adriana's anger was now burning like a flame, completely overriding her guilt from earlier. "It's not as if she wanted to! Those _bastardos_ who call themselves 'nobles' forced it on her!"

"Oh? So your commander is weak-willed in addition to being ineffective? I feel sorry for you girls in A-Unit then."

That, unfortunately, set Adriana off like a detonator on a block of C4. Despite Adriana's general lack of respect for authority, she has become quite fond of her commanding officer due to her honest and kind nature. "What was that, you _puttana?!_" she shouted angrily as she advanced on her.

Normally, Marian was able to keep her cool even in tense situations. However, the combination of watching the witches under her command almost being killed by an–in her opinion–idiotic mistake by an officer who should've known better and the residual and remembered pain from her own injuries have made her extremely hostile towards the officer in question. Also, while Marian spoke not a word of Romagnan, only a complete moron would have not noticed the extreme hostility in Adriana's voice. Marian crossed her arms and said coldly, "You heard me, bitch. If your commander hadn't bent to those nobles, the 506th would be one unit and this whole snafu would never have happened."

You could almost see their respective auras opposing one another. Adriana's aura was that of a dragon wreathed in flames, hissing out tongues of fire with each breath. Marian's was not a dragon, but a mighty 8-legged warhorse with a mane and fetlocks of flowing ice, breathing out blasts of subzero air from its nostrils with each snort.

Fortunately, before the fight became too serious, the two parties' wingwomen intervened. For the several minutes that Adriana and Marian's fight had been building up, their wingwomen had been huddled together discussing what to do if their respective commanding officers got too out of hand. They had also decided on a codeword to use while they were at it. "Suppression Plan Alpha, go!" Jennifer shouted. "_Banzai!_" Kunika shouted as well.

Within moments, both Adriana and Marian were restrained by a pair of witches each. Kunika and Isaac restrained the former, while Jennifer and Carla the latter.

"Calm down, Adriana-san! You were supposed to be apologizing to Marian-san, remember?" Kunika said frantically.

"Like hell I'm going to apologize to that stuck-up _puttana!_"

"Calm down. You screwed up. We all did. Get over it." Isaac said bluntly.

Adriana visibly deflated upon hearing that.

"And why the fuck are you two restraining me?" Marian asked testily to her two wingwomen.

"Just in case…" Jennifer began cheerfully.

"A miracle happens and you actually lose it." Carla ended just as cheerfully.

You could almost see the vein bulge out slightly on Marian's temple. "You seriously thought I'd lose it over something like that?" she asked testily.

They both shrugged in response, leaving their commanding officer to simmer.

Just then, the A-Unit's ear radios squawked. **"Hello? Are you still there? I think we've come up with a plan to destroy those Neuroi!"** Rosalie said excitedly.

"_Mattekudasai,_" said Kunika, accidently slipping into Fusoan.

"**Pardon?"** Though Rosalie spoke many languages, Fusoan was not one of them.

"Uh, hold on."

Just then, Adriana struggled free of her wingmates' trip. "I'm fine, go ahead," she said quickly into her ear radio.

"**Are you okay, Ms. Adriana? You sound…off. Did something happen that I need to be aware of?"**

"No."

"…**Right, then. Would you please tell B-Unit to set their radio frequency to match ours? It would be much easier to coordinate that way."**

Adriana nodded, even though her commander couldn't see the gesture, and said to Kunika, "Tell B-Unit to switch to our frequency."

Kunika looked back at B-Unit in consternation. Even though they were only a few feet away, Adriana wasn't even talking to them. Jennifer and Carla shrugged in sympathy and began switching their radio frequencies. Marian, however, just crossed her arms. "Why should I?" she said coldly.

Suddenly, Marian's ear radio squawked. **"Do it,"** the familiar voice of Lieutenant Colonel Preddy ordered into her ear quietly but firmly.

Marian's eyes widened in surprise. _'How did she…'_ Then she remembered. Her commander's power was Hawkeye, a magic ability in the Perception Lineage that allowed her commander to see and track targets at ranges far, far beyond what a human should normally be able to see. She'd likely been watching the whole exchange.

Marian reached up to press her throat mike. "But, Colonel-"

"**No buts. Focus on the Neuroi. Ignore all else. That's all. Oh, and Captain Carl?"**

Marian knew with almost 100% certainty what was coming. "Yes, Colonel?"

"**You were out of line. Extremely out of line. I'll not have you slandering a superior officer. Is that clear, Captain Carl?"**

Marian looked down in shame. She knew she had gone far out of line and was ashamed that she'd lost her temper. "Yes, ma'am. It won't happen again."

"**Good. Honestly though, I didn't expect you to lose your temper like that. I know **_**Capitano**_** Visconti's command style drives you up the wall and I know she was in the wrong this time, but leave the disciplining to her actual CO, understood?"**

"Yes, ma'am."

"**Very well, carry on."**

The radio clicked off with a definite finality. Marian sighed and closed her eyes. It was a technique she'd learned from Captain Takei when they were working together in Fuso.

'_Breathe in, breathe out. Inhale, exhale. Be like water, calm and fluid. Let all worries flow from you like a river,'_

Captain Takei had called it Zen.

When Marian next opened her eyes, there was no anger, none of the fury that had taken her earlier. Only serenity, calm, and focus. She reached up and switched her radio's frequency to match that of A-Unit's. "I am ready, Commander de Grunne."

Now that they have all synched their frequencies, they could now strategize. **"Alright, now that I have your attention, is there anything about the Neuroi that you could care to add? Any piece of information, no matter how insignificant, could be vital,"** Rosalie said.

All of the witches present looked at one another, save for Adriana and Marian who were pointedly ignoring one another. The new Neuroi were just too fast for almost any of them to make a detailed observation. Almost.

"_Hai._ Here's what I've seen of the Neuroi." Kunika proceeded to report every detail of the new Neuroi's design.

"**Hm, so they're optimized for attack while neglecting defense, eh?"** Rosalie noted.

"**Looks like it,"** Heinrike agreed.

Adriana also reported her observations, especially about the new Neuroi's surprising maneuverability.

"_**Scheisse.**_** I was hoping its high speed would mean it wouldn't be able to turn quickly."** Heinrike cursed.

"**We can't have everything go right, Ms. Heinrike. It would just make us dull in the end."** Rosalie consoled.

"**Well, looks like we've got all our pieces in place. Shall we go with Plan C, then?"** Geena asked.

"**Wait, what's the Neuroi's current speed now?"**

The witches could hear mumbling as the radar operator answered his commander's query.

"**About Mach .93, eh? And since they seem to be maintaining that speed for most of the engagement, it's likely their top speed too…yes, I think Plan C would be best, Geena."**

Marian chose this moment to pipe up. "So, you guys are going to clue us in on this Plan C of yours or are you just going to keep making cryptic statements?"

"**Ah, my apologies about that. Very well, here's what Geena, Ms. Heinrike, and I have brainstormed up."**

After explaining the specifics of the mysterious Plan C, Marian nodded. "It's a good plan. It'll neutralize their speed advantage if we do this right."

"Not to mention we outnumber this guy 6 to 1," Adriana said, glancing at Marian for her reaction. When she saw only calm acknowledgment of her input, she relaxed. Slightly.

"**Um, bad new on that. Radar just picked the other 2 high-speed Neuroi breaking formation with the other Neuroi and heading towards the lone Neuroi. It looks like they're going to link up with it before attacking you again,"** Rosalie informed grimly.

"Okay, so now it's 2 to 1. It's still in our favor."

"Insomuch as facing alien craft from another world still counts as being in our favor." Though she was still calm, sarcasm came to Marian as naturally as breathing. Not even Zen meditation could change one's innate personality.

The remark earned a glare from Adriana, but her anger subsided when she saw only wry humor in Marian's eyes, not the mocking she'd been expecting.

"But you're right, it is still technically in our favor in terms of numbers. If we exploit that, then-"

"We can still beat them," Adriana finished. She then clapped her hands together. "Alright, _streghe._ Get into formation. Let's show these Neuroi what happens when you play with witches!"

The other witches cheered/shouted/spoke their agreement.

Then Adrian raised a hand to interrupt. "But first, are you two going to get new weapons," she pointed at Marian and Jennifer. "Or do you still think you can use those pieces of scrap metal?"

They both started and looked down at their weapons. It was only now that Adriana had pointed it out that they realized their weapons they'd been holding had blackened and burst chambers from their ammo cooking off. In the case of Jennifer's M3 autocannon, part of the receiver had actually cracked, rendering the weapon completely unsalvageable. Now it was only useful for scrap.

Silence reigned. Dead silence. You could hear the wind blow by as the silence dragged on-

"You've got to be kidding me!" Jennifer cried as she threw her M3 away in frustration. The massive weapon sailed into the distance, down into the forest far below, likely never to be recovered again. Likewise, she threw away her spare 60-round drums for the M3, since right now they were nothing but dead weight.

Marian simply dropped her now useless M1919A6 and pulled her backup weapon, a M3 Grease Gun, from where it was slung over her back. "You might want to check your backup, Jen. Just in case," she said as she pulled back the bolt on her M3, checking for any damage.

Jennifer quickly pulled out her own backup weapon, a M1A1 Thompson submachine gun, and checked it for any damage. "I'm clear!" she shouted after few seconds.

"So am I," Marian answered as she switched the safety off. She looked around at the other witches staring at her and Jennifer. "What are you maggots think you're doing? Get into formation already!"

After a few stammered replies, the witches finally got into formation for Plan C. The formation consisted of two lines: the blocking line and the flanking line. The blocking line–composed of Jennifer, Kunika, and Carla–were to basically take the incoming fire from the Neuroi and keep them focused on the witches by any means necessary. The flanking line–composed of Marian, Isaac, and Adriana–were to fly out from behind the blocking line once the Neuroi were engaged with it and attack the Neuroi from their flanks. Any attempt by the Neuroi to break off their attack runs or even switch targets would expose them to fire from the witches. It wasn't perfect, given that they had but a few seconds in which to engage the Neuroi, but it was the best they could come up with on the spot.

The Neuroi appeared in the distance as 3 black dots. They approached in wedge formation, screeching their fury at the puny meatsacks who destroyed one of their brethren. If the witches had been ordinary meatsacks, they would have fallen to the powerful lasers already.

Fortunately, these meatsacks were a lot tougher than your average meatsack.

As soon as the Neuroi opened up with laser fire, the blocking line immediately went and did what they were called to do: block. At the same time, the flanking line zoomed out from behind the blocking witches and opened fire on the Neuroi.

Marian activated her magic ability, Speed Boost. Her ability allowed her to sync with her familiar, the American Quarter Horse, and increase her speed and acceleration in short sprints. The engines of her North Liberion XP-51G Mustang striker roared as magic flooded it and she dashed out into the Neuroi's flank, firing her M3 Grease Gun full-auto into the side of the Neuroi. The Neuroi roared in twinned fury and agony as .45 ACP bullets raked across its somewhat fragile body and it turned to engage the witch attacking it, firing lasers that smashed into Marian's shield like hammers of light. In doing so though, it completely forgot about the witch in front of it.

Jennifer rushed out and opened up with her M1A1 Thompson. The weapon known infamously as the "Chicago Piano"–among other names–spat out .45 ACP bullets at a rate of 600-700 rpm, sending a storm of jacketed lead into the distracted Neuroi. The Neuroi once more knew pain as the bullets tore into its flank, then a large chunk fell off to reveal a glowing, red dodecahedron: the Neuroi's core. The Neuroi immediately rolled and turned to hide its exposed core and give itself time to regenerate while simultaneously engaging its attacker. Marian, however, used her Speed Boost to quickly gain a firing angle on the Neuroi's ravaged flank. She fired a long burst from her M3 Grease Gun into the Neuroi's side, emptying the magazine with a click. 16 rounds struck the Neuroi. 5 of those struck the core. With bullet holes torn into it, the core's glow died and it shattered like glass, taking the rest of the Neuroi with it.

As laser fire slammed into blue magic circle covered with Fusoan seal script and Sanskrit that was Kunika's magic shield, Isaac quickly dashed out from behind her friend. Since the Neuroi was busy attacking Kunika, Isaac decided not to do her magically-enhanced trick shooting from before and instead fired at its flank directly. Round after round slammed into the Neuroi, each exploding inside the alien craft's body and blowing out large chunks from it, prompting the Neuroi in question to turn its attention to the red-headed witch, firing its lasers at her. Unfortunately, in its zeal to attack its attacker, it failed to notice 2 things:

1. Its core was exposed.

2. There was another witch in front of it.

Kunika took advantage of the Neuroi momentary lapse in attention and blazed away at the core with her Type 99, sending small chunks of Neuroi flying away. The Neuroi realized its mistake and it quickly rolled to cover its wounded side, but for a moment, its exposed core was facing Isaac. Always the watchful hunter, Isaac took full advantage and fired one round into the core. That single 20mm HEI shell shattered the core into a pieces. After which, the Neuroi exploded into a shower of white shards like its brethren.

The last Neuroi was in the process of firing its lasers at Carla when Adriana dashed out from behind the blonde witch and aimed her Fliegerhammer at the Neuroi. Just as she was pulling the trigger however, the Neuroi suddenly turned and fired at Adriana, forcing her to either throw up her shield or be turned into barbequed Adriana, also consequently throwing her aim off and the rocket she subsequently launched missed the Neuroi by exactly 51.6 meters. The Neuroi had seen through the eyes of its brethren before it was destroyed that the red-haired human was incredibly dangerous due to her weapon and ability, and so had gone for her first, designating her the priority target in favor of the yellow-haired human; a mistake the Neuroi immediately regretted.

While Adriana's Fliegerhammer did technically possess more firepower than Carla's weapon, that didn't mean Carla was armed with a peashooter, as the stream of .50 caliber API-T rounds attested to that fact. Carla's weapon was one of the original Browning M2 heavy machine guns fitted with a water-cooling jacket over the barrel. This particular model though, had its water-cooling jacket modified to be filled with compressed ether instead, allowing it to take full advantage of Carla's Ether Cooling ability. With this ether-cooling jacket, Carla can fire her Browning M2 for very long periods without ever worrying about overheating; a great boon for any machine gun and a bane to any enemy in front of said machine gun, as the Neuroi can attest.

Carla's use of tracer rounds allowed her to "walk" her right into the Neuroi. The red-tipped M20 Armor-Piercing-Incendiary-Tracer rounds smashed apart the Neuroi body while cauterizing the wounds at the same time: something the Neuroi really, _really_ did not like as evidenced by screech of pain and fury (more the former) emitted by the Neuroi. Still, it pressed its attack on Adriana, hoping to take at least one of its kind's most hated and feared enemy down with it. Adriana though, had other plans.

Instead of taking the blows from the Neuroi's lasers this time, Adriana brought down her shield and slipped between the Neuroi's lasers instead while taking aim with her Fliegerhammer. One of the crimson beams came so close that the cloth along her left arm was scorched and blackened while the skin beneath it blistered from the heat. Only Adriana's adrenaline high kept her from feeling it as she pulled the trigger. "_Morisci!_" she screamed in Romagnan as 9 20mm HE rockets flew out from her Fliegerhammer. The Neuroi was shocked at the apparent insanity of the maneuver the human took, or it would have been had it lived long enough to feel shocked. Travelling at 350 m/s, the 9 rockets took a fraction of a second to reach their target. All were direct hits. The Neuroi literally vanished in the ensuing explosions. By the time the explosions dissipated, only a few stray fragments of Neuroi were left to float down to the earth below.

Had an AI been recording the engagement, it would have shown that the entire engagement lasted only 5.06 seconds. A coincidence? Maybe. Maybe not.

Afterwards, the witches abandoned all discipline as they wildly cheered and congratulated each other for their kills. That is, after they'd caught their breath.

Marian flew up next to Adrian. Her sharp eyes noted the burns across her left arm.

"What?" Adriana said defensively.

"That was quite a trick you pulled off back there," Marian finally said.

Adrian's right eyebrow quirked up in anticipation.

"So great that I'd recommend you change out your uniform for a white straitjacket, ASAP."

Now Adriana's eyebrows crossed in irritation.

"Of course," Marian chuckled, "We might need more people like you to stand a chance against these Neuroi."

Adriana's eyebrows returned to a level position as she accepted the backhanded compliment. "_Grazie_, I think."

Meanwhile, Kunika was watching with joy that their two units' commanders have made up, in a way.

Then the ear radios on all the witches present crackled to life. **"This is Commander de Grunne, radar has an update on the three remaining Neuroi."**

Marian stiffened as she remembered. _'Shit, I forgot about them!'_ "Commander de Grunne, what's the ETA on those Neuroi until they reach our forward base?!" she asked frantically.

"**That's just it. It's zero."**

Marian's eyes widened in shock and grief, as did the eyes of every other witch around her.. _'No, we failed…'_

Just then, another voice came in. **"Rosalie, I think you're giving them the wrong idea. To clarify, the Neuroi have not reached the base. They've pulled a 180 and are now heading back across the Rhine at full speed," **Geena reported.

Relief that the base hadn't been destroyed was quickly replaced by confusion at the Neurois' actions.

'_They _retreated_? They've never retreated. Never. They've always fought to the last before. Just what's going on?'_ went through the minds of all the witches present.

"**In any case,"** the voice of Wing Commander Grunne came over the radio, interrupting the witches' thoughts. **"All witches are to RTB to Sedan Base at this time. And by all witches, I mean **_**all**_** witches, B-Unit included. We need to have a discussion as to the events of today. Wing Commander Preddy will be joining you shortly. Over and out." **

The radio clicked off with a finality that made all the witches gulp. Wing Commander de Grunne did not sound like a happy woman.

* * *

**506****th**** JFW A-Unit Base, Sedan, Gallia**

**First Lieutenant Kunika Kuroda**

**1145 hours**

Kunika fidgeted nervously as the witches sat in a sofa in the base's lounge room. Waka was sitting in her lap and she tried to calm herself down by petting him. It wasn't working. She wasn't the only nervous one.

On Kunika's left was Jennifer, who was also fidgeting nervously. Her friend's nervousness had infected her and she was now wondering what Wing Commander de Grunne was going to do. Combined with the fact that she had not slept much since last night's patrol only increased her stress level.

On Kunika's right was Isaac with a disassembled Winchester M1897 shotgun–her favorite hunting weapon–on the table in front of her. The red-headed witch was busy cleaning the bolt. Though she looked calm, anyone who'd been paying attention to her who know that she'd been meticulously cleaning the bolt for the last 15 minutes, which showed just how nervous she was.

On the sofa to their left sat Carla, Marian, and Adriana. At one end, Carla held a bottle of Coke in her hands and took a sip from it every now and then. The glass bottle was still dripping with condensation from her using her Ether Cooling ability to keep the carbonated beverage nice and chilly. Apparently, the drink was doing wonders for her nerves as she showed no sign of nervousness.

At the other end, Adriana was resting her cheek on her left hand while the elbow of said arm was propped up on the sofa's arm. The sleeve of her uniform was still scorched (she hadn't bothered to change), but the burns running down her arm have been healed thanks to Jennifer. Her eyes were closed and she looked like she was completely at peace. Only the regular tapping of the fingers of her other hand betrayed her agitation. Had her familiar been out, her tail would have been lashing as well.

Sandwiched in between was Marian, who appeared to be busy reading a book, specifically a technical manual entitled _Turbojet Engines: The Theory and Application_ _in the Development of Jet Strikers_ by Ursula Hartmann (translated from the original Karlslandan by Francine Whittle). However, the fact that she kept looking up from her book at one of the witches sitting on the sofa next to her own broke the illusion.

On that sofa sat two blonde witches. Sitting on the right-hand side of the sofa was Heinrike. Since she'd started sitting there, she'd been sitting at ramrod attention as befitting a soldier of Karlsland. However, as the time dragged on, even her iron-stiff discipline started to waver as she slowly leaned back against the sofa.

Sitting next to Heinrike in the center was Rosalie, who was calmly sitting there. Every so often, she would pick up a porcelain cup full of steaming, hot tea (Earl Grey with one cream and no sugar, if you wanted to know) and sip from it. She was waiting for one more member of their JFW before beginning.

As if on cue, the door leading to the hangar clicked. Every witch in the lounge room immediately stopped what they were doing and sat at attention as the door opened to reveal a brown-haired young woman dressed in the brown uniform of the Liberion Army Air Force. The only witch who didn't turn into a statue was Rosalie.

"Ah, Geena. Thank you for coming all this way. Ah, and will you be having the usual?" Rosalie asked.

Wing Commander Geena Preddy nodded and smiled. "It's no problem, Rosalie. And yes, that would be well appreciated. Thank you," the Liberion witch answered in a quiet Britannian accent.

As Geena sat down on the empty seat next to Rosalie, the latter took a teapot filled with Britannish breakfast tea and poured it into an empty porcelain cup on a saucer of the same make she had. She then added one cream and two lumps of sugar to it before handing it to Geena. The Liberion witch inhaled the fragrance of the tea and sighed happily before taking a sip. "Mm, delicious. You make an excellent brew as always, my dear," Geena said.

Rosalie waved a hand in disagreement. "Oh, please. You know I wasn't that good when I first started. I could barely boil a pot of water without burning it, remember?"

"True. But this is definitely a case of practice makes perfect. And this, is as close to perfection as you can possibly get."

The two witches went on, back and forth to one another in front of their near-stupefied subordinates, who had no idea what to make of their respective commanders' apparent familiarity with each other.

After a minute, Rosalie cleared her throat. "Well, then. Enough with the pleasantries, shall we? First off, I would like to begin with the issue of our two units' coordination with each other."

"If you can call it that," Marian muttered, earning her glares from Adriana and Heinrike.

As their mouths opened, Rosalie raised a hand to forestall them. "No, she's right. Because of our units' lack of communication with each other, this whole situation very nearly turned into a disaster. Only luck and your individual skills kept it from becoming so. That being said," she looked down in shame and then stared levelly at them. "I would like to formally apologize to all of you. If I'd been a better commander, I would never have allowed this awful situation of splitting our wing to come to pass. You have my sincerest apologies for this mess."

None of the witches knew how to react to this, nor were they prepared when Geena put down her tea, reached over with her right hand, and bonked Rosalie lightly on the head with a knifehand strike. As Rosalie rubbed the top of the head, Geena spoke, "I thought I'd gotten you to understand the fault isn't entirely yours. I swear, your noble head can be so thick at times."

As Rosalie stared at her while still rubbing the spot on her head where she'd been bonked, Geena continued. "Look, we both share some blame for caving in to those aristocrats' demands, but I'm fairly certain the real fault lies with them. That whole 'nobles and commoners shouldn't be allowed to mingle' business is just pure bullshit." The last word was spoken with a vehemence the Liberion witches had rarely heard from their soft-spoken commander. "That means you shouldn't try to place all the blame on yourself. Share some of the blame with me for once. You understand me?"

Rosalie looked sheepish as she nodded slowly. "I…understand. Thank you, Geena. For everything."

Geena flashed her one of her rare smiles. "No problem, love. So you do have a solution for this whole split wing syndrome of ours, do you?"

By now, the other witches had gotten used to their commanders' apparent familiarity with each other and it was more reassuring than surprising. Rosalie looked back at the other witches. "Yes, I do. Now, here's what I have in mind. It's really quite simple,"

Rosalie proceeded to describe how she would solve their units' lack of communication with each other, and it was a very simple solution indeed. Kunika's eyes went wide as her commander finished outlining her solution. "So we'll be combined into one unit?" Kunika asked with a mixture of hope and glee.

Marian rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes as she thought. "It would definitely solve all our problems," she opened her eyes and looked squarely at Rosalie. "But do you think those stuck-up nobles will ever agree to this? They did put us in this mess in the first place."

Rosalie closed her eyes as she thought. "It's…not all that likely." She opened them again as she came to a decision. "I'll probably have to use my family's connections to force them. And even then…" she shook her head. "We'll wait and see. If this doesn't work-"

"If it doesn't work, there's always Plan B," Geena finished.

"Plan B?" the other witches echoed.

Geena scratched her chin. "It's…"

"A work in production." Rosalie finished.

The groans of disbelief that followed was quite audible. Even the mechanics working in the hangar almost heard it.

Rosalie clapped her hands together. "Now then, we'll just have to wait and see how the meeting goes. In the meantime-"

The ear radio in Rosalie's right ear clicked on. **"Wing Commander de Grunne, I have news for you," **the base's radar operator reported.

Wing Commander de Grunne reached up and pressed her throatmike. "I copy, what's happening?"

"**It's begun. They're starting Operation Trajanus. I'd thought you and the other girls would like to listen in."** The radar operator's normally taciturn voice was filled with excitement.

Rosalie grinned. "I copy. We'll be in ops shortly, over." As she shut off her throatmike, she looked at the quizzical expressions of the witches assembled. "They're starting Operation Trajanus. Everyone to the ops center."

Their eyes widened at the news. Operation Trajanus had been planned for months now after Sergeant Miyafuji's partial success in establishing peaceful contact with a Neuroi hive. If this succeeds, they'll not only regain Venezia, but they'll also possibly be able to begin negotiations with the Neuroi and end the war. If not, then they'll at least start a schism within the Neuroi's ranks and divide them so that they'll be easier to defeat.

None of the witches wasted any time hightailing it to the base's ops center.

* * *

As they gathered around the radio in the ops center, they waited in anticipation for the first report from the contacting unit.

Finally, it came.

"**We have visual confirmation on the Neuroi! It looks just like the humanoid form reported by the 501****st**** last year."**

"**Confirmed here as well. Now commencing contact procedures,"** the voice of Captain Junko Takei filtered through over the radio.

'_Captain Takei!'_ Marian thought happily as she heard her old friend's voice.

"**Understood."**

A long moment of silence passed by.

"**This is Captain Takei. The humanoid Neuroi is now 2 meters in front of me. I will now attempt basic communications with it."** A short pause. **"We come in peace. Do you understand me?"**

Another short pause.

"**It nodded! It understood-wait."** There was yet another short pause. **"It's…examining me, I suppose? It's flying around me slowly and-wait, now it's directly in front of me and-**_**ara**_**? It's holding out its hand."**

Everyone in the room listened to the radio with bated breath, save for Waka who couldn't care less about the strange voices coming out of the equally strange box and was more concerned with snuggling up to his owner.

"**Its…skin feels metallic, but warm. Almost like metal made flesh."** Captain Takei's voice sounded almost giddy with excitement despite the seriousness of the situation. **"I think this could wo-"**

Then, **"Oof! What the-"**

Then suddenly, the witches of the 506th heard two familiar sounds that chilled them to the bone. One was the high-pitched whine of Neuroi laser fire. The other was the scream of a Neuroi in agony, dying down to grim silence.

"**Wh-Why did a Neuroi beam hit that Neuro-" **Then they heard a gasp from Takei. **"**_**Nani…are?**_**"**

Soon after, the sound of Neuroi last fire filled the room followed quickly by yells and screams from both mundane pilots and witches.

Marian grabbed the transmitter. "This is Captain Carl! Takei-_taii_, what's happening?!"

"**This is Takei…the mission has failed…"** The furious sounds of battle could be heard amidst Captain Takei's voice. **"I repeat…Operation Trajanus has failed…"**

There was the sound of laser fire and the signal dissolved into static.

"Takei-_taii!_ Takei-_taii!_ Junko, _kikoeru ka?!_" Marian screamed into the radio as she frantically spun the dials, trying the reacquire the signal. The other witches had to restrain her as she screamed and cried out Captain Takei's name.

* * *

An hour later, the witches of the 506th finally learned what happened. A giant Neuroi hive came and destroyed the hive they were attempting to communicate with. Soon after, it attacked the Allied forces. Most of the mundane aircraft were shot down and their pilots killed. Several of the witches of the 504th Joint Fighter Wing were critically injured in the fighting. Captain Takei was among the worst injured. For all intents and purposes, the 504th JFW was no longer combat-capable. The war had now taken a new and ominous turn.

* * *

**Somewhere in Orussia**

**Flying Officer Eila I. Juutilainen**

**March 4, 1945**

**1245 hours**

_Luutnantti Löjtnant_ (Flying Officer in Britannish) Eila Ilmatar Juutilainen, hero of the Human-Neuroi War and member of the famous 501st Joint Fighter Wing, was feeling quite happy right now. Sure, it was snowing outside and the train station she was in was kind of drafty, but any place was paradise to her so long as there was one person with her: Aleksandra Vladimirovna Litvyak, known as the White Lily of Tsaritsyn to Orussia, or better known by her pet name of Sanya to her friends, coworkers, and beloved.

The person in question was curled up, fast asleep. Her head full of snow-white hair was resting on Eila's lap as she slumbered peacefully in dreamland.

So yes. Eila was happy. Ecstatic, really.

She could have just sat there all day and let Sanya doze on her lap, but right now she had a task to perform: and that was finding the right train to take to get into the heart of Orussia to look for Sanya's parents. A normal, mundane person would have asked around for the information. Thankfully, Eila was neither normal nor mundane, for she had a power that was extremely rare even among witches: Foresight, better known as precognition or the ability to see into the future. Eila's ability normally allowed her to see only a few seconds into the future, but with the right tools, she could see even farther into the murky future.

Eila pulled out a deck of tarot cards. It was a standard 78-card deck with two sections: the Major Arcana and the Minor Arcana. The Major Arcana consisted of 22 trump cards without suits, while the Minor Arcana consisted of 56 cards divided into 4 suits of 14 cards each; 10 numbered cards and 4 court cards. Each card had a different meaning depending on which card was drawn, in what order, and combined with the other cards drawn.

Eila shuffled the deck, then cut the cards into 3 piles on the empty seat next to her. While cutting the cards, she thought about the question she wanted to ask.

The question was, _'where do we need to go to reach our destination?'_

The question was quite reasonable given Eila's goals. However, the open-ended nature of the question turned it into a wide-ranging question that demanded an answer far greater than what Eila had in mind. Perhaps that was the reason for what happened afterwards.

Just as Eila was about to draw the cards for the reading, there was a gust of wind and the top cards of each of the three piles flew off. Eila watched with open-mouthed amazement as the cards floated along as if borne by the winds of destiny, flying towards the entrance to the building and floating around it, as if motioning for her to follow.

Eila knew what she must do.

She quickly gathered up her deck, stowed it, and shook Sanya awake. "Sanya! Wake up! We need to go! Right now!" she shouted.

The white-haired Orussian witch blinked awake and sat up. "Eila? What's wrong?" she asked sleepily while rubbing her eyes.

Eila quickly pulled her to her feet. "Quick, we need to go! The cards, they're telling me to go!" she yelled frantically while pointing at the three cards still swirling by the entrance.

Sanya quickly tried forced herself awake. Over the years, she's learned to trust Eila's judgement on these matters, as Eila's predictions tended to be disturbingly accurate.

Eila didn't wait. She picked up her Messerscharf Bf. 109K-4 striker and KP/-31 submachine gun in a duffel bag and dragged Sanya along as she chased after the three cards. Sanya just managed to pick up her duffel bag containing her MiG I-225 striker and Fliegerhammer before Eila dragged her too far away. The cards flew out the entrance as she neared. Luckily, the movements were enough to force Sanya into wakefulness and after a few seconds was running alongside Eila instead of being half-dragged.

The two witches ran outside the building, but the cards were nowhere to be found. Eila looked around for the flying cards and suddenly saw them fluttering in the distance towards a train.

"There!" Eila shouted as she and Sanya resumed the chase.

They chased the cards alongside a black train with passenger cars lined up behind it. The train's whistle sounded, indicating it was about to leave. Immediately afterwards, the three cards slipped through a door on one of the passenger cars.

Eila had no idea why the cards were leading her and Sanya into that train, but she'll be damned if she'll miss this. The two witches just managed to get onboard just as the doors slid closed and the train shuddered and started to move.

Eila and Sanya lay on the floor for a while, panting from exertion. It took a few seconds for Eila to catch her breath and look up. There, laying before her, were the three cards laid out in a perfect row. From left to right, the cards represented the past, present, and the future respectively.

With a shaking hand, Eila flipped over the first card that represented the past. It was the Justice, but it was flipped upside-down. Rightside-up, the Justice represented truth, fairness, the following of laws. Upside-down, the Justice was perverted into lawlessness, dishonesty, and lack of accountability.

'_Someone is being dishonest with me? No, wait…I said 'us', didn't I? Someone was being dishonest with us…as in witches? But who?'_

Eila pondered this cryptic message, but decided to leave it for another time. For now, she reached over and flipped the second card that represented the present. Her eyes went wide as she saw it: the Tower. The Tower represented impending disaster and great misfortune. Something bad was going to happen to them, and soon.

"Eila?"

Eila looked to her right to see Sanya staring at her with her dark green eyes full of worry.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Eila was about to tell her it was nothing, but she realized that Sanya wouldn't believe it. She always knew when she was lying. "Don't worry. I'll protect you, no matter what happens," Eila said instead.

Sanya's eyes widened in surprise, but then she nodded, trusting Eila to do what she daid she'd do.

Eila then returned her attention to the final card: the future. With a deep breath, she flipped it over. It was the Wheel of Fortune. It represented good luck, destiny, and turning points. Something monumental was going to happen in the future. It would be a turning point in the war and it would benefit humanity.

Eila breathed out a sigh of relief that all was not doom and gloom, and that it would turn out all right in the end. Then a chill went through her spine. She felt an overwhelming urge to turn the last card over again even though she already knew what was on the other side…or did she?

With a trembling hand, she turned it over again and gasped. The image on the card was most definitely not there before, and Eila most certainly did not recognize the image before her.

On the card was the image of an eagle with outstretched wings sitting on some kind of sphere. The way the eagle was posing was as if it were protecting the sphere below it, threatening all who would dare harm the sphere below s if it were the eagle's own egg. On the eagle's chest was a shield to ward off attacks and emblazoned on it were the letters "UNSC". Eila had no idea what those letters meant until her gaze went to the sphere below the eagle. There was a banner draped on the sphere and written on it were the words "UNITED NATIONS SPACE COMMAND" in Britannish. The cryptic words held no meaning for Eila other than their individual definitions.

'_What is a 'United Nations'? And 'Space Command'? Does it mean space, as in the stars above? But how can you command space? It's impossible, isn't it?'_

"Ah-hem."

The sound of someone clearing her throat made Eila look up. The conductor stood there, tapping her heels on the floor as she stared at the two girls who had apparently jumped aboard her train.

"билеты, пожалуйста," the conductor said with a no-nonsense tone.

Eila did not speak Orussian. Sanya tried to teach her once, but she failed miserably. She just simply did not have the patience to learn it.

"I'm sorry, but do you speak English?" Eila asked hopefully. When she got no reply, "_Tai ehkä Suomi?_" she asked in Suomi, her home language. No response from that either.

Sanya stood up. "I'm sorry, we just came aboard. We don't have tickets for here. May we just pay instead?" she asked in Orussian.

The conductor looked at Sanya, then her eyes widened in shock. "Oh! It's the White Lily of Tsaritsyn! My apologies, I didn't see you there," she said in Orussian.

Sanya shook her head. "It's fine. Now may we pay for tickets?"

The conductor shook her head vehemently. "Pay?! Why would I demand payment from the hero of Tsaritsyn?! Please, stay onboard for as long as you like! Your friend may ride with you as well,"

Sanya blushed in embarrassment. "No really, it's okay. We'll just pay for our ticket."

The conductor frantically waved her arms. "No, I insist! I cannot possibly ask for payment form you!"

Sanya was at a loss. She didn't want to just ride without paying, but the conductor clearly was not going to accept payment. "Is there anything I can do? Just for gratitude?" Sanya pressed.

The conductor thought for a moment. "Actually." She took out a notebook and pen. "Will you please give me your autograph? It's for my little sister. She's been fighting on the Eastern Front and she's a big fan of yours, so I was hoping to send this to her to cheer her up."

"Your sister is a witch?"

The conductor nodded. "Please, may I have this autograph?"

Sanya nodded. "Of course." She took the notebook and pen. "What is her name, if I may ask?"

"Irina Fyodorovna Kalinin," the conductor answered.

Sanya nodded. On the first page of the notebook, she signed her name in Britannish and below that she wrote 'To Irina, best wishes and happy hunting" in Cyrillic. After she finished, she handed it back to the conductor who took it and saluted her.

"You have my thanks, Aleksandra Vladimirovna. If there is anything in the future you may need and if it's within my power, you will have it." Before Sanya could protest, the conductor held up her hand. "_Nyet,_ you may not back out of this. It is my choice to make, and you cannot persuade me otherwise." The conductor smiled as she saw Ssnya accepting that fact. "Good. Enjoy your stay, _tovarishchi._" The conductor walked away, happy as a clam.

Eila had no idea what was said between the two as the whole exchange was in Orussian. She only knew that Sanya had somehow convinced the conductor to let them stay by giving her an autograph. Sanya turned around and held out her hand to Eila, who was still lying on the floor. "Come on, Eila. You don't want to lie on the floor for the whole journey, do you?" Sanya asked with a twinkle in her eyes.

Eila blushed. "Y-Yeah." She picked up the cards lying on the floor, pausing only to glance at the last card, and accepted Sanya's helping hand.

Sanya then led her to the passenger car. There weren't many people on board. In fact, there was barely anybody here. Train travel in Orussia had tapered off due to the threat of Neuroi sneaking past the front lines and attacking trains, so it was easy for Eila and Sanya to find an isolated seat and take it.

Now that they've had a chance to relax, Sanya looked over and stared at the card with the strange image on it. "What do you suppose that means, Eila?" Sanya asked as she pointed at the eagle with the shield and the cryptic letters and words.

Eila perked up. "Wait, you can see this?"

Sanya nodded.

'_So it's not a hallucination.'_ Eila rubbed at the image, but nothing came off. _'Strange. Then how did this get on the card so quickly? Is it my magic? Probably, but I've never done anything like this before, so…'_

Eila then noticed Sanya still staring at her, waiting for the answer to her question. "I don't know. I think it's going to happen soon in the future though. I can feel it." Eila suddenly realized something. "Where is this train headed?" she asked.

Sanya activated her magic antennae. "South, I think," she answered after a few moments.

'_South, huh. I wonder why did my power lead us to a train headed south of all places? Exactly what's waiting for us ther-'_

All thoughts were driven from her head when Sanya laid her head against Eila's shoulder. "Sanya, wha-"

"Mm, comfy," Sanya muttered before she fell asleep against her beloved's shoulder.

Eila blushed deeply as Sanya continued snoring softly. She reached over and stroked Sanya's snow-white hair, all thoughts of doom and gloom racing away as she stared at Sanya's sleeping face.

'_Ah well. It doesn't matter what's waiting for us south. As long as Sanya's with me, I'm sure it will be fine.'_

Eila tucked the card with the strange emblem on it away in one of her pockets, closed her eyes, and slept leaning against her crush (not that she ever admit it). Dreams of Sanya and her together chased away all her dark thoughts about the future.

And yet even then, she still kept seeing the eagle and the letters "UNSC".

* * *

**A digital cookie to anyone who can correctly guess which post-war aircraft I based my high-speed Neuroi on.**

.


	3. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: For repetition's sakes, I do not own either Halo or Strike Witches. Halo is owned by Microsoft Studios and Strike Witches is owned by Shimada Fumikane.**

**A/N: BbK2442 here with the latest chapter of Halo: Contact Neuroi (Maybe I should shorten it to HalCoN instead? What do you think?) Anyway, this is where the main story finally gets started. **

**And please leave a review. I can't improve the story unless I know what people think of it. Any and all criticism is accepted. Flames aren't.**

**I've made some slight changes to the story. Check it out.**

**Anyway, please enjoy.**

**Chapter 1- Down the Slipspace Rabbit-Hole, Here We Go**

**Reach Orbit**

**UNSC **_**Salamander**_** Mess Hall**

**Lance Corporal Jakob E. Branley **

**March 4, 2575**

**0612 hours**

Jakob was staring at the contents of Sar's tray with a look of morbid fascination as he chewed slowly on something the label claimed was chicken casserole, with Sar herself deciding which piece of food to eat first.

Granted, it wasn't all bad. Some of the tray's sections contained relatively normal foodstuff. For starters, UNSC military trays were divided into 6 sections: 2 large sections with 4 smaller ones on the sides. In one of the large sections on Sar's tray was a serving of Salisbury steak with gravy and in the other was a serving of mashed potatoes with butter. Even two of the smaller sections contained normal foodstuffs: mixed vegetables in one section and canned peaches in the other (she liked the taste of canned peaches more than fresh ones). Really, it was the contents of the other two sections that tended to draw stares.

The section on the upper right corner of Sar's tray (Sar's perspective) had a line of roasted grasshopper/shrimp-like creatures with too many legs on them. Several were already pulled apart and had their pale white meat inside sucked out by one Sar Fen. Granted, to Jakob, they didn't look very disgusting so long as he thought of them as alien versions of shrimp (which they did vaguely resemble). No, what really makes Jakob's stomach do acrobatics was the contents of the last section of Sar's tray.

On the bottom-left corner of Sar's tray, were fat, wriggling grub-like creatures. Each one was about 10 cm long and the width of a full-grown man's thumb. Their skin was a bright crimson hue and their heads were small with an orange and black pattern on it. As stated before, they were wriggling around, trying to escape their inevitable doom in the pit of Sar's stomach.

As Jakob watched, one of those wriggling grubs managed to wriggle itself out of its section of tray right into the gravy-filled section that held the half-eaten Salisbury steak. It began thrashing violently the moment it hit the still-hot gravy. Obviously, the high temperatures combined with the saltiness of the gravy did _not_ agree with the creature. Unfortunately, the grub's violent movements caught the attention of the female human above it, who had now decided what bit of food she wanted. She took her plastic fork and speared the creature, yellowish fluid seeping out from where the tines had impaled it. The grub thrashed violently from the injuries, trying to escape its looming fate, but to no avail. Sar brought the wriggling creature up with her fork and popped it into her mouth, chewing with obvious relish and delight as the grub finally met its doom.

Sar noticed the stares of Jakob as she finished chewing and swallowed. "What?" she asked innocently.

Jakob opened his mouth, couldn't think of anything to say without offending her, and then promptly closed it.

Tak then proceeded to say something to Sar, who then proceeded to look at Jakob with a tilted head. "You think this weird?" Sar asked while pointing at the wriggling grubs.

Jakob looked quite uncomfortable as he answered, "Well, you have to admit, it's kind of weird for a human to eat live, wriggling grubs and like it."

"But I always eat Darrak worms when I live in mama's ship," Sar countered.

"No disrespect, but there's humans and there's Kig-Yar. Your family are Kig-Yar-"

"And a Mgalekgolo," Sar interrupted.

"Oh, right. The point is, they're not human, and you are. And for a human to eat that is weird."

Sar thought about it. It took 3 seconds for her to decide on her answer. "Don't care," she answered as she popped another one of the crimson grubs into her mouth.

Jakob sighed in utter defeat. Tak and Anna shrugged in sympathy while Taiga just presented a lop-sided smile. "You know Sar-chan is. When she's set her mind to something, she's not going to give up. Ever."

Jakob sighed again, this time more deeply, and proceeded to stare at the ceiling, hoping everyone will forget the awkward moment. He found his gaze wandering to one of the tables and seats attached to the ceiling where the Yanme'e crew were. The Minors were eating and drinking silently, while the Majors and Ultras were doing that _and_ chattering in their weird buzzing, clicking, chirping language that no human could possibly reproduce , no matter what parts of their bodies they used (the fact that they regularly used pheromones and ultrasonic clicks in their "speech" didn't make it any easier to understand). As he watched a metallic green-shelled Ultra pick up a morsel of food that resembled a green vegetable of some sort and chewed on it, an important, life-changing question came to him.

"You think Yanme'e have a sense of taste?" Jakob asked.

The others looked up at what Jakob was staring at.

"Don't they have mandibles?" Taiga asked.

"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure mandibles don't have taste buds," Jakob replied.

"Maybe they have taste buds on their feet like flies? Or maybe they're on the antennae?" Anna wondered.

"I don't know about the antennae, considering it's not going anywhere near the food, but you might be onto something with the feet angle. Maybe that guy does have taste buds on his feet. I'm going to have to find time to ask of those guys someday," Jakob answered.

Tak squawked something.

"Her. Tak say all Yanme'e here are hers," Sar translated.

"Oh yeah. The Yanme'e are like bees, aren't they? The workers are all sterile females…" Jakob trailed off.

"Wouldn't that make them genderless then?" Taiga asked.

"Nah. They still got girl parts. It's just that they don't work," Anna answered.

Taiga scratched her chin as she thought. "But isn't that the same as having no girl parts to begin with?"

Tak answered with a long series of squawks, barks, and jabbering.

Sar scratched the back of her head as she tried to translate. "Tak say they not have parts, but still girl because…gah!" Sar cut off her translation to hiss and growl at Tak, who squawked in confusion and hissed back as Sar continued her rant in Kig-Yar.

Having spent a lot of time with them, Jakob knew what was bugging her. "Calm down, Sar," he said as he held both arms in a placating manner. "Tak knows your English skills aren't exactly first-rate. I'm sure he didn't mean to use long words you can't translate well."

Tak nodded once. Just one nod was what it took for her to calm down.

Jakob sighed again. Trying to be his team's arbiter was tiring, to say the least. "Look, when I have time, I'll look for Dizzy. I'm sure by now, he'll have…" Jakob's voice trailed off as he noticed a purple and electric-blue creature float into the mess hall. Its long, serpentine head waved back and forth as it looked for someone. Jakob immediately stood up and waved. "Hey, Diz! Over here!" Jakob shouted.

The Huragok chirped in surprise and floated over to where Jakob and the rest of Vanguard Team (plus Anna) were. The Huragok were among the strangest of the aliens the _Salamander_ carried as crew. This one, like its brethren, was no exception. Its main body looked like a large cluster of indigo balloons stuck together. Four long, electric-blue tentacles trailed down from below the main body while a pair of slightly shorter, crimson feelers rose up from near the top-front of the body. A long, serpentine head the same electric-blue as its tentacles and dotted with 6 small, black eyes extended from the front of the body while a shorter tail-like section extended from the rear.

The Huragok named Spins-in-Place, also known as Dizzy or Diz for short, whistled pleasantly to the people at the table, then turned to Jakob and made a series of signs with its 4 tentacles.

Jakob laughed. "Nice to see you too, Diz." He then noticed that one of Dizzy's tentacles was curled around a small object. Jakob pointed at it and said, "Let me guess, you're here to return that to Tak?"

Diz whistled and bobbed its head up and down in a nod. It then extended the tentacle holding the object to Tak and uncurled it to reveal Tak's translator device looking like it just came out of the factory.

Tak grinned and took the small device in a 3-fingered grasp. He then placed it into a holder at the base of his neck. The small indicator light on it blinked on. Tak then coughed and said, "Testing, testing. I'm not saying anything strange now, am I?" His voice still sounded like his usual voice–deep and raspy–but it was now in English instead of Kig-Yar.

Everyone flashed him a thumbs-up.

"Nope. It's 100% a-okay, now," Jakob reported.

Tak's grin got wider, displaying the dagger-like fangs behind his curved beak. "Excellent! I'm quite glad now that I don't have to rely on an intermediary to translate for me." One of his yellow, slit-pupil eyes travelled to the side to answer Sar's glare. "Not that your translation hasn't been helpful, Sar, but your English skills are, ah…" Tak scratched his chin lightly with a middle claw. "Somewhat lacking in finesse," he concluded.

Sar merely folded her arms in frustration. "Not my fault English so hard," she muttered darkly.

Meanwhile, Taiga was staring at Dizzy bobbing over the table. "_Ne_, your name is Dizzy, right?" she asked the Huragok in question.

Dizzy turned to Taiga. It nodded and whistled a confirmation.

"So why do call you that?"

Dizzy whistled thoughtfully, then turned to Jakob and made some more signs at him.

Jakob scratched the back of his head. "Well, it's kind of a funny story really. You know how Huragok name each other by what they do when they're first made? Well, when they first made Dizzy, he started spinning around for some reason and couldn't stop. He got so dizzy, the other Huragok had to hold him in place so that he could get his bearings long enough to adjust his gas level. That's why the others named him Spins-in-Place and that's why-"

"Well, what do you know? It's the chicken team," a voice taunted.

Everyone turned to look at the source of the voice, which came from a man in his mid-20s with no insignia on his dull green uniform, indicating the rank of a Private.

"What do you want, Tony?" Jakob said with an exasperated tone.

Antonio Fernandez, known by his nickname of Tony, smiled at him, though it was a sickly smile devoid of any levity. "Oh, nothing. Just come to look at the Six-Foot Tall Chicken and the Kig-Girl here and wondering where did this crazy bitch go wrong?"

Sar growled softly and started to rise, until Jakob and Tak both gave her a look that said, "Stand down," which made her sit back down. Still, she glared at Tony like she wanted to rip his throat out with her bare teeth.

Jakob turned back and stared down at Tony. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a group of Ruuhtan Kig-Yar nearby who'd heard Tony's remark and were hissing softly.

True, Sar was a human, but the other Kig-Yar, some of which were distantly related to Sar's mom, accepted Sar as one of their own. A phrase came to Jakob's mind as he saw them glare at Tony with bared fangs: _Slight one Kig-Yar, and you slight them all._

He then noticed out of the corner of his other eye a group of marines who apparently share Tony's views, for they had clenched fists and were muttering to themselves while staring at us. Jakob knew he had to diffuse this quickly. If a brawl starts between the humans and the Kig-Yar, it would get ugly. Dagger-like fangs and razor-sharp claws and talons can do a lot of damage to unprotected human flesh, after all, and though the Kig-Yar were among the smaller of the ex-Covenant races, they were pretty big compared to humans, with each Kig-Yar averaging between 190 cm (6ft 3 in)-203 cm (6 ft 8 in) tall and weighing on average 90 kilos (198 lb), and that's just for the normal subspecies. A human equipped with nothing more than barely sharp teeth and bare hands with soft, flabby fingers stood at a distinct disadvantage.

Jakob really, _really_ did not want this to turn into an interspecies free-for-all. While he didn't particularly like Tony (he'd heard some nasty rumors about him), he also didn't want to see him get mauled by a group of Kig-Yar due to Tony's own stupidity. Jakob also didn't want to see the Kig-Yar get court-martialed because of said stupidity either. He had to defuse this situation _now_.

"Is there a point to this, Tony?" Jakob asked levelly, trying to restrain his anger at Tony harassing one of his friends. Some of his anger must've have leaked into his question, because Tony wavered for a fraction of a second before his confidence returned.

"My point?" Tony asked quietly. "_My point?_" he went pale with anger partly as a reaction to the momentary fear he felt and partly from his own outrage at the sight before him. "My _point_," he spat, "Is this: why the fuck are you letting something whose race murdered billions sitting at your table?!" he shouted, pointing at Tak.

The area around them went silent from the outburst. Dizzy, frightened by the hostility and loud noise, did what most Huragok did when confronted with danger: it curled up and floated away. The metallic green Yanme'e Ultra, who'd been watching the scene below her, was startled by the rapid ascent of the Huragok. In a rare moment of cooperation between the two species, the Yanme'e reached out and grabbed Dizzy before it smacked into the ceiling and placed it underneath her table, leaving the Huragok to bob against the table like a loose balloon.

Throughout all this, Jakob just stared levelly at Tony. "First, let me correct you on something." He turned to Tak. "Tak, remind me, how old are you again?"

"I am a little over 33 _tarsiks_ old. That means…" Tak scratched the bottom of his jaw as he thought. "I am about 18 of yours years old." He grinned. "Chu'ot orbits Y'Deio much faster than Earth does around Sol, you know."

Jakob nodded and turned back to Tony. "There, you see? Tak wasn't even born yet when the Great War ended. There's no way he could've killed anyone then. And also," his eyes narrowed in anger. "Tak is a free man–so to speak–and he can sit anywhere he wants. Not to mention, I say he can sit here, _Private_. So take. A. Hike." Jakob emphasized each word as he spoke.

The steel in Jakob's voice made Tony reel back a little, then he recovered and he wasn't happy. Angered at having felt fear twice due to Jakob, Tony's face turned pale with anger. "You…" Hit fists clenched. "Don't you fucking dare dismiss me like that!" One arm reeled back for a punch.

"I wouldn't do that if were you, punk." Tony stopped his swing in mid-air as he stared in surprise at Anna's words. She hadn't even been looking at him when she'd said it. Now she was just looking at him from the side, as if dismissing him as an annoying little bug (no offence to the Yanme'e or the Huragok). "Striking a superior officer? I'm pretty that's a couple a' weeks in the brig, if not a court-martial. Ya really want that?" The way she asked it made it clear it was a threat, if her strengthened Brooklyn accent didn't make it clear.

"Y-You stay of this! It's got nothing to do with you, you dyke!"

Instead of being offended like what Tony intended with his insult, Anna merely gave him a bewildered look. "What did'ja call me?" she asked with confusion.

Jakob mentally facepalmed. _'What backwater planet did he learn that from?'_ he wondered at Tony's use of a really, really old word that no one used anymore [1].

In fact, the only reason Earth-born Jakob knew what the word "dyke" meant was because he had been looking for the definition to the word "dike" and had happened to come across a list of synonyms.

'_That word must be common where he came from, but there's no way New York City-born Anna would know what that word means. Except that's not the problem,'_ Jakob thought worriedly. _'No doubt Tony's going to figure out that he's not making sense and use something from this century, and that's the real problem. Anna would just laugh off any insult like that, but she's eventually going to figure out that by insulting her sexuality, Tony is also, by extension, insulting the bond she has with her wife, and that's going to be…ugly, to say the least.' _

Jakob recalled one time when he'd seen Anna hug a holo-still of her, her wife, and their daughter as if it were a stuffed animal and mentally grimaced.

'_Yeah, ugly wouldn't even begin to describe it. I think she'd do even more damage to Tony than the Kig-Yar. Now I have to try to defuse her too. Oy!'_

As Jakob frantically tried to think of a solution, he noticed a heavy thumping sound and looked up as a pair of shadows fell over Tony, who was apparently now angrier than before since Anna didn't understand his (unknowingly to him) retro insult and didn't notice the shadows towering over him. The other members of Team Vanguard plus Anna also found themselves looking up at the newcomers.

Tony still didn't take the hint. "You heard me, you dyke! Why don't you-"

"Excuse us, is there a problem?" one of the figures behind Tony asked in a voice so deep it vibrated the very air.

Tony spun around, angry at the interruption. "Who asked y-" The words died in his throat as he found himself staring not at a face but at a green, armored knee.

His gaze travelled up, and up, until he was staring at the dull green faceplate of a Mgalekgolo in UNSCMC service, unmarked save for a few power indicator lights near the bottom of the helmet. The alien(s)'s "head" stood at over twice Tony's own height of 6' 2", making the massive Mgalekgolo an intimidating sight by its sheer presence alone. The presence of the other Mgalekgolo next to it turned it into overkill.

"We asked, and we shall repeat. Is there a problem?" the Mgalekgolo rumbled insistently, using the first form of "we" [2]; its voice more felt than heard.

Tony quickly found his anger escaping him to be replaced by fear. Though he was known for his aggressiveness and bravado, almost to the point of stupidity, not even he was dumb enough to pick a fistfight with a Mgalekgolo, a being so powerful they were given the designation "Hunter" by the UNSC, among other names (some of the most common being "Juggernaut", "Big Scary Monster", and "Why The Fuck Won't This Thing Die?!").

"I-I," Tony gulped. "No." He quickly got of the path of the massive alien(s)' gaze(s) and made his way towards the door, but not before giving Jakob and his team one last hateful glare before the door slammed shut.

Jakob didn't care. He was just happy that the whole situation resolved itself like that. "Hey thanks, man," he said to the Mgalekgolo.

There was a pause. "For what do we owe your thanks to?" it asked.

"Neither of _us_ did anything of note," the other one added.

Jakob blinked in confusion. "Weren't you threatening Tony for being out of line?"

The two Mgalekgolo stood in silence for a moment. "_We_ were merely wondering if anything was wrong due to the loud noises," the first Mgalekgolo explained.

"Do you humans not make loud noises when **you** are distressed?" the other one asked.

Jakob scratched his cheek. "Well, yeah, I guess. But…ah, never mind. You guys did good anyways." Jakob holds out his hand. "The name's Jakob E. Branley. Don't use it up."

Another pause. "Do not use what up?" the Mgalekgolo asked simultaneously.

Jakob mentally facepalmed. "Never mind, so what's yours'?"

"Nogata Sara Zurru," the first Mgalekgolo replied.

"Togumi Sara Taso," the second replied.

Jakob took a moment to memorize their names. "Right, Nogata, Togumi. Why don't you two sit down here?" he patted the empty seats to his right.

Nogata and Togumi looked down at the tiny (relative to them) bench next to the table while Jakob looked at the huge (relative to the bench) Mgalekgolo and wondered if the seat could hold the Mgalekgolo, whose weights average over 5 tons, partly due to the weight of their armor and equipment and partly due to the weight of the hundreds of worm-like Lekgolo that made up each Mgalekgolo.

Nogata turned around and gingerly sat down on the metal bench. It stopped when the bench began creaking ominously and stood back up. "Perhaps _we_ will simply sit on the floor. That, at least, appears to hold _our _weight quite well." Both Mgalekgolo then proceeded to do just that, sitting on the floor next to Team Vanguard with their armored legs crossed in lotus position.

Jakob and the rest of Vanguard Team plus Anna watched as each of the two Mgalekgolo held up a smooth, discolored sphere the size of a basketball that appeared to be made of stone in their hands, or rather, their manipulator digits on their Assault Cannons. Then their eyebrows rose up in surprise as the Mgalekgolos' faceplates lifted up and a mass of orange Lekgolo worms reached out from each Mgalekgolo, grabbed the stone sphere from their hands, and  
pulled them into their bodies before their faceplates slammed shut again. The only ones who weren't surprised were Sar and Tak who'd seen Mgalekgolo eat before.

"That's…all you eat?" Jakob asked incredulously.

"Yes," Nogata and Togumi intoned.

Jakob watched, or rather, listened as the masses of worms digested the stone spheres in their bodies. Hissing and grinding sounds could heard from within the Mgalekgolo as they fed.

After a few seconds, Jakob decided to turn his attention back to his own delicious food when suddenly…

"Guys, where'd Dizzy go?" Taiga piped up.

They all looked around to see where the Huragok went to when Tony had started shouting, all but Jakob. Long years spent hanging out with Vergil had taught him much about the behavior patterns of Huragok, including what they do when they are threatened. Thus, unlike the others who were looking around, Jakob looked up and saw Dizzy floating against one of the Yanme'e's ceiling tables with its head, tail, and tentacles curled up like a turtle.

"Hey, Diz! It's alright! You can come down now!" Jakob shouted to the Huragok.

Dizzy uncurled itself and seeing how Tony was gone, lowered itself gradually back down to Jakob's level. It whistled questioningly at Jakob before he patted it on the head, making it purr like the galaxy's weirdest cat.

"Ah, don't worry about it all too much, Diz," Jakob consoled. "He wasn't angry at you."

Dizzy chirped happily and bobbed up and down in relief.

Jakob now, at last, turned his attention back to his food and was about to chow down when he noticed something off about the food.

In the section of tray above where the remnants of the, presumably, chicken casserole were still waiting, where the rice was, there lay a large, crimson-skinned grub wriggling furiously on the white grains to try to find an escape route. A Darrak worm.

Jakob looked up at Sar. "Sar, what is this?" he asked while pointing a finger at the still-wriggling grub.

"Darrak worm," Sar replied innocently.

A vein bulged on Jakob's temple. "Yes, I know that. What I wanted to know is why is it on my food?"

"Reward," Sar replied just as innocently as the last.

"If I may clarify," Tak piped up. "I believe Sar wanted to thank you for your vehement defense of all Kig-Yar kind and thus, wanted to give you a reward for your efforts. Namely, the Darrak worm you see before you."

Jakob looked from the bright red grub, which had stopped wriggling and was actually munching on a piece of rice, to Sar's beaming face, and back to the grub, which was still content to just sit there and nom. If he accepted Sar's gift, he would have no choice but to eat the gross-looking, insect thing on his tray. Yet, if he rejected it, he would get on Sar's bad side again, and nothing good would come of making his team's resident markswoman angry. Jakob then sighed inwardly in resignation as he made his choice.

He reached forward, and grabbed the Darrak worm between forefinger and thumb. The fat, crimson grub wriggled madly in protest as it was picked up by a being hundreds of times its own body mass, but it was to no avail as Jakob lifted the grub up to his mouth.

Jakob was reminded of a scene he had seen in an old animated film once where one of the characters had to eat a similarly large grub. He couldn't remember the contents of the film much–something about lions and monarchy and fratricide–but that one scene stuck out in his mind as he popped the Darrak worm he was holding into his mouth and chewed.

He expected to gag from the taste. The last thing he expected was to find himself appreciating the taste of live Darrak worm. The insides of the creature tasted like cream cheese and peanut butter with a hint of habanero chili peppers to him.

"Good?" Sar asked.

Jakob found himself unable to answer as he struggled to reconcile the unexpectedly delicious taste of the Darrak worm with the very unpleasant feeling of the pieces of the grub-like creature still twitching in his mouth.

**UNSC **_**Salamander**_** Conference Room**

**Rear Admiral (Upper Half) James G. Cutter**

**0630 hours**

RADM Cutter took a sip from his cup of coffee. Apparently, it was really good coffee because he took another sip before setting the thermo-regulated cup down on the holotank table and sealing the lid.

'_The steward really outdid himself this time,'_ Cutter thought.

Cutter then turned his attention back to the man sitting from across the table to him. He was a man in his late 20's with brown, messy hair and wore wire-rim glasses instead of the contacts people in this modern age usually wore. The man wore a white lab coat over a green turtleneck sweater which emphasized how…nerdy he looked. The man sat there waiting for Cutter's answer to his question, which was:

"No."

The man's face fell like a stone dropped into a particularly deep body of water. "But-"

"No," Cutter said firmly. "I will not order any of the men or women under my command to risk their lives test-piloting that…whatever it is you and your team are working on, Dr. Emmerich."

"Otacon," Dr. Hal "Otacon" Emmerich corrected. "I prefer to be called Otacon."

"…" Cutter had nothing to say to that.

Dr. Emmerich pushed his glasses a little further up his face. "Regardless, I'm not asking you to order your personnel to act as my test pilot. All I'm asking is for your permission to ask one of your people to be a reserve test pilot in case our own test pilot doesn't show up, which I'm sorry to say looks more and more likely with each passing minute. I swear, I'm going to…" He descended into dark mutterings at this point, something about being drawn and quartered could just be heard. "…and then, and only then, am I going to fire him." He took a deep breath and exhaled. "So, do I have your permission?"

Cutter gave it some thought before answering, "As long as your tests don't interfere with their pre-existing duties and if you can get someone to agree to test-pilot that thing of yours. Frankly, I doubt anyone's crazy enough to do it, but…"

Dr. Emmerich immediately stood up and held out his hand. "You have my sincerest thanks, Admiral." Cutter automatically took the hand and shook it. "If need be, if I can't get anyone to agree to be the substitute test pilot, I'll gladly pilot the MG Sylphid myself."

Cutter had only one thought in response to that: _What's with scientists and their weird names, anyway?_

Dr. Emmerich didn't notice his expression as he walked out of the conference room with a happy look on his face.

Cutter sat for a few moments in his chair before sighing in relief that the last of his meetings were over and getting up.

"So," Cutter wondered to himself out loud. "I wonder if there's time for breakfast now that-"

"**Sorry, cap'n."** Natsu said as he suddenly appeared on the large holotank in the center of the room. **"The ship's scheduled to make the jump to the Sol System using that weirdo FTL drive Doc Voroshilov's got set up down in that bay pretty soon. HIGHCOM wants you to launch in the next 15 minutes. They said you should be hauling ass to the bridge right now."**

Cutter sighed as his stomach grumbled in protest. "Right, I remember. Tell de Medici to stand by, I'm on my way."

Natsu grinned. **"Oh, yeah. The LCDR also said there's something waiting for you on the bridge's holotank. She said you should hurry up before it gets cold,"** he said before vanishing as suddenly as he'd appeared.

'_Before it gets cold?'_ Cutter wondered as he headed to the lift. _'Could it be…?'_

When he reached the door, he pressed his thumb into the pad on the console next to it. The pad automatically scanned his fingerprint and logged in his use of the life as the door opened and he stepped inside.

"Natsu, get this lift moving to the bridge, on the double!"

"**Aye, cap'n!"**

The lift shot up towards the _Salamander_'sbridge, which was a deck above the conference room where Cutter was. Cutter felt the gravity briefly come and go as the lift passed between the grav-plates on each deck responsible for generating artificial gravity aboard the _Salamander_. Such a sensation has been known to induce nausea in those who weren't prepared for it. Fortunately, the sensation lasted for only a brief few seconds before the lift doors opened back up and Cutter stepped out into the _Salamander_'s bridge.

Officially known as the CIC (Combat Information Center), the bridge was the heart of any warship, where the officers controlled the ship and directed it during combat operations. It used to be that the bridge of most UNSC warships were located near their bows and had viewports that looked out into space (most ships still have a raised area with viewports, but these were now known as observation decks rather than bridges). While it gave the officers a good view of the surrounding area, it also meant that enemy vessels also had a good view of where they needed to shoot to throw the ship into chaos (a Sangheili shipmaster, upon seeing the placement of UNSC ship bridges, commented that humans have far more reckless courage than any other race they've encountered).

During the H-C War, UNSC HIGHCOM decided the previous bridge arrangement proved…inadequate for the task of commanding a warship, especially after watching the performance of equivalent Covenant warships which were able to take exorbitant amounts of damage while still remaining in control. Thus, in the post-war era, all new UNSC warships were designed so that the bridge was located at the center of the ship surrounded by armor in all directions. Any old warships also had their bridges transferred to a more suitable location within the interior of the ship (this modification was actually been considered following the conclusion of the Colonial Secession War in 2524, but was dismissed due to cost issues).

Likewise, the UNSC _Salamander_ was built with not only this in mind, but was built to command ground operations as well. The bridge was a cavernous semi-circular room with over a dozen bridge stations. Crashseats welded to the floor and equipped with restraining harnesses were provided for all bridge personnel at their stations. The center of the room was dominated by a raised platform equipped with large transparent viewscreens and an equally large holotank at the middle of the platform. The holotank also had crashseats welded to the floor around it that allowed the captain and first officers to quickly secure themselves in an emergency. The crashseats were a post-war innovation implemented on all UNSC ships when after-action reports revealed that the majority of all non-fatal injuries (and even some fatal ones) inflicted on bridge officers were found to have been caused by the officers being thrown into the floor, wall, and consoles whenever the ships were hit by weapons fire.

LCDR de Medici turned around at the sound of the lift doors opening and snapped to attention. "Captain on deck!" she shouted.

Immediately, every officer on the bridge was doing the same. It wasn't just that Cutter was the commanding officer either. Every man and woman on board respected and, hell, even liked the old man. Even many of the non-human crew on board felt the same.

A corner of Cutter's mouth quirked up as he briefly returned their salutes. "At ease," Cutter said, causing the bridge officers to do just that and return to their work.

Cutter then proceeded to make his way to the central platform. He was about to say something to his XO when he noticed a thermally-insulated container on the holotank. He gave LCDR de Medici a questioning look while pointing the black container. Cutter's XO merely gave a nod as he reached out and opened it. The delicious scent to hot food wafted out as he beheld the contents of the container: a piping hot roast beef sandwich with provolone, lettuce, tomato, bell peppers, and cucumbers between two pieces of good, warm rye bread.

With a heartfelt, whispered "thank you" to his XO, he reached in and began eating the wonderful sandwich, relishing the first bite of hot meat and bread and savoring the rich juices.

"Technically, you should thank the steward for that," de Medici explained. "He was the one who actually cooked it. I only put it out where you could see it."

It took Cutter less than a minute to demolish the sandwich. "Then I'll have to thank the man later. This, was a life-saver," he declared after swallowing the last bite of sandwich.

It was then that Natsu appeared on the holotank. **"Cap'n, ya done eating yet? 'Cause I'm raring to go anytime now!" **Natsu shouted while punching the air.

Cutter smiled at the AI's enthusiasm. "Yes, Natsu. Sound general quarters. Set material condition X-Ray. Alert Yard 21 to make preparations to cast off," Cuter ordered.

Natsu saluted with a bright smile plastered on his face. **"Aye, cap'n!"**

**UNSC **_**Salamander**_** Mess Hall**

**Lance Corporal Jakob E. Branley**

**0630 hours**

Everyone in the mess hall started when the high-low-high whistle sounding general quarters played over the 1MC, as did everyone else in the ship.

"**General quarters, general quarters! All hands man your battle stations. Up and forward to starboard, down and aft to port. Set material condition X-Ray. This is not a drill. We are casting off from Yard 21."**

The voice sounded unusually calm for Natsu. Then–

"**That means move it, people!"**

The sound of Natsu's voice was instantly replaced with the blaring klaxon bell of the general quarters alarm; loud enough to cut through to anyone and everyone's attention while still being quiet enough so that orders could still be heard via an ancient system called "shouting". Everyone began moving to their prescribed stations at a quick but orderly pace.

Anna quickly stood up. "See ya, guys!" she said as she put her tray into a slot in the wall that led into a washing machine and headed to the door that lead back to the hangar.

"Good thing we're already in armor then, _ne_?!" Taiga said to Jakob with a smirk.

Jakob's answer to that was to reach over to his side, grab his helmet, and put it over his head. The helmet clicked into place as the UNSCMC-standard issue GRAM Powered Mass Utility armor was now completed.

"Still need weapons, though!" Jakob shouted as the helmet's speakers amplified his words. "Let's get moving!" he shouted as he stood up.

"Yes, sir!" the rest of Team Vanguard shouted in unison as they placed their helmet over their heads and stood up.

It was when they were walking to the trays' wall slot that they felt the heavy thumping on the floor behind them.

"You guys need weapons?" Jakob asked Nogata and Togumi incredulously as the two Mgalekgolo followed behind Team Vanguard. Jakob didn't raise his voice this time; he knew the Mgalekgolos' hearing was sensitive enough to pick up his voice.

"No," Nogata began.

"_We_ are merely following _you_," Togumi continued.

"_You_ amuse _us_. _We_ will continue following _you_ for more amusement," Nogata finished.

Jakob looked to his team members, who shrugged in response. Jakob shrugged to the Mgalekgolo in return. "Okaaay, whatever flies your ship." He then turned to his team. "Come on! Let's get moving, people! Move it, move it!"

They quickly placed their trays into another slot and headed away to the armory to collect their weapons.

Only then, would they head to their stations to await whatever may come their way.

**UNSC **_**Salamander**_** Combat Information Center**

**Rear Admiral (Upper Half) James G. Cutter**

**0640 hours**

"All crew have reported they're at their assigned stations," LCDR de Medici said as she finished putting on the UNSC Navy-regulation vacuum-sealed suit (vac-suit for short) over her uniform.

'_10 minutes. Not bad, but not good either. Need to schedule more drilling,'_ Cutter thought as he finished doing the same.

"Good. Natsu, turn that damn alarm off, will you?" Cutter ordered.

The blaring klaxon sound immediately cut off.

"Yard 21 reports they're ready to release the docking arms on your command, captain," _Salamander_'s communications officer, Petty Officer 3rd Class (PO3) Kreis Czherny, reported.

RADM Cutter nodded at the young man's crisp delivery. "Very then, Petty Officer Czherny. You may tell them to release docking arms."

"Aye, sir." The black-haired Czherny immediately reported the orders to the shipyard.

Outside, hundreds of massive clawed docking arms released their holds on various points of the _Salamander_'s hull with a clang that was audible to the people inside the ship. They drew back and folded themselves into the walls of the shipyard.

"Shipyard reports all docking arms now released and folded. We're ready to go at any time," Czherny reported.

"Good. Tell the _Oblique Approach_ and the _Tale of the Bamboo Cutter _to dock with us as soon as we clear the Dock 21."

"Aye, sir."

While Czherny communicated with the two _Strident_-class heavy frigates on either side of the shipyard, Cutter turned to another officer, an elderly-looking Ibie'shan Kig-Yar with red quills on his head going grey with age. "Petty Officer Mor, make ready to launch the ship."

Petty Officer 1st Class Jal Mor, _Salamander_'s helmsman, nodded. "Aye, sir!" he answered in a deep raspy voice. Mor then pressed a button on his console that turned on the intercom to a very specific section of the ship. "Petty Officer Gunther, are you ready back there?!" he roared into the intercom.

"Yes," a woman's voice answered over the intercom. "All reactors are hot and ready to go. Just say 'when', sir," Petty Officer 2nd Class Isara Gunther reported crisply.

PO1 Mor grinned, bring his still-sharp fangs. "Excellent!" The Kig-Yar turned to Cutter. "Where to, captain?" he asked.

Cutter looked to the central holotable. "Natsu, bring up a star map of the system."

"**Aye, cap'n!"**

Immediately after, a holographic map of the Epsilon Eridani system formed above the holotable. A blinking dot appeared on the starmap just beyond the colony of New Belfast, the 4th planet in the system.

"There," Cutter said, pointing at the dot. "HIGHCOM has ordered us to rendezvous with our escorts at Epsilon Eridani's superior IJP (Interstellar Jump Point) before making the jump to Sol. We'll be setting course for there, but first we need to pick up our two escort ships first. Get us out of the shipyard first."

"Aye, sir," PO1 Mor replied while manipulating the controls. "Firing engines."

At the rear of the ship, 3 nuclear fusion reactors–all of the prototype V77/X-HFR type –went active, bathing the reactor rooms in the bluish-white glow of Cherenkov radiation. The V77/X-HFR reactors, utilizing technology reversed-engineered from Covenant pinch fusion reactors, immediately started fusing He3 and He3 together to produce massive amounts of power and plasma. The plasma generated by the reactors was then channeled through a series of exhaust manifolds into massive nozzles. The _Salamander_ had 2 engine pods with 3 primary fusion thrusters surrounded by secondary thrusters mounted on each pod, each glowing with the bluish-white light of fusion-induced plasma. The _Salamander _exited Dock 21 at a stately pace and cleared the shipyard before firing the thrusters in reverse to arrest their forward momentum. Two _Strident_-class heavy frigates headed for the ship's underbelly.

"Natsu, open the sub-vessel bay doors," Cutter ordered.

On the _Salamander_'s ventral side, two Cat-8 Sub-Vessel Deployment Bays sitting side-by-side opened massive, several meter-thick Titanium A5 doors as the two _Strident_s did a 180 and entered the bays engines first. One bore the name _Oblique Approach_ while the other bore the name _Tale of the Bamboo Cutter_, both painted on the side of the ships in white. The bay doors closed in front of them as large grappling arms secured the heavy frigates to the bay.

"**Both ships are docked! We're ready to go, cap'n!"**

Cutter nodded at Natsu. "Very good." He then turned back to Po1 Mor. "Natsu, set condition X-Ray Yankee. Petty Officer Mor, set course for the superior IJP."

"**Aye, cap'n!"** Natsu shouted as he made the announcement.

"Aye, sir," PO1 Mor replied while manipulating the console yet again. "Setting course for superior IJP."

The fusion drives once more flared with bluish-white light, but with massive flames this time instead of simple glowing like before. The _Salamander_ built up speed like a charging bull and was soon rocketing away from Reach's orbit. An aging and obsolescent _Stalwart_-class light frigate examining a Kig-Yar freighter's cargo for contraband flashed its running lights at _Salamander_ as it passed. The _Salamander_ flashed its own lights at the light frigate before speeding away into the star-lit void.

The ship soon reached the icy debris field that lay between Reach and Boreas. The debris field–nicknamed Khione's Girdle by early explorers–consisted of millions of icy asteroids and rubble raging from ice chips no bigger than a boulder to massive rounded chunks of ice and dust rivalling a small moon in size. Fortunately, Khione's Girdle's potential as a navigational hazard was defeated by the fact that all objects in the star system more or less followed the ecliptic plane. This meant that any ship looking to avoid the ice belt simply had to go above or below the ecliptic plane. That, and the fact that the chunks of ice were often separated by thousands of kilometers meant that a pilot would have to be extraordinarily inept to collide with one. In this case, the _Salamander_ simply flew through it.

It was a few minutes after clearing the debris belt that an incoming communication was sent to the bridge from engineering. The ID signature identified it as coming from Dr. Voroshilov.

"Go ahead," Cutter answered.

Dr. Voroshilov's pale, thin face appeared on a viewscreen. **"Hello, Admiral Cutter. I have come to report that my companions and I have finished installing the Hermes** **Drive. We can begin the experiment at any time."**

"Thank you, Dr. Voroshilov. We'll let you know when we can begin."

Dr. Voroshilov nodded before ending the transmission.

Just as Cutter was about to turn back to the central holodeck and its information readouts repeated from the bridge stations, the main doors to the bridge slid open. Cutter turned to face the newcomers. One was a red-haired woman in her mid-30s with yellow-green eyes and a face still covered in freckles like a teenager. The other was a chestnut-haired, blue-eyed man also in his 30s. The only resemblance they shared was that both had the bronze oak leaf of a Lieutenant Commander on the shoulders of their uniforms. They both saluted RADM Cutter.

"Admiral Cutter, Lieutenant Commander Cutter reporting in!" the red-haired woman shouted.

"Lieutenant Commander Whittaker here, reporting as ordered, sir," the chestnut-haired man said crisply.

Cutter returned their salutes. "At ease, you two. You know I'm not one for ceremony."

The red-haired woman was the first to lower her salute. She smiled an easy smile at him. "Great! Then I can start calling you 'gramps', right gramps?" she said cheerfully.

RADM Cutter winced as he stared into the mischievous yellow-green eyes of his granddaughter, Janet M. Cutter, Lieutenant Commander of the UNSC Navy, and captain of the UNSC _Oblique Approach_. "Maybe not quite that relaxed, Lieutenant Commander Cutter. And I'm not that old," Cutter added testily.

Janet Cutter just grinned in response. "Aw, don't be so grouchy, gramps!" she shouted while walking up to the central platform. "Hey, Ange! How're you doing?" she asked the LCDR.

"Fine, thank you. How are you, Janet?" de Medici replied.

As Cutter watched the two officers chat, he noticed Whittaker walk up beside him.

"If it helps, sir, it's easier to just go with the flow when dealing with Cutter," Whittaker replied in a British accent.

"I've noticed, thank you," RADM Cutter replied wearily.

Sir Andrew Whittaker, also a Lieutenant Commander of the UNSC Navy, and captain of the UNSC _Tale of the Bamboo Cutter_, smiled. "No problem, sir. Just making sure you were paying attention," the man said cheekily.

Cutter groaned as he returned his attention to the holotank.

Next on the list of destinations the _Salamander_ passed was the gas giant Boreas. It was a Jupiter-sized gas giant planet composed mostly of hydrogen and helium with trace amounts of methane, giving Boreas a characteristic blue color. The gas giant had no ring, but had no less than 28 moons orbiting it, 12 of which had colonies. The _Salamander_ passed this as well and continued onward, though Natsu took a moment to store Boreas's image data in his memory for later examination.

Next was the colony of New Belfast. It was an Earth-sized planet with abundant natural bodies of water. Freshwater rivers curved through the continents and massive freshwater lakes served as oceans. The colony had been the site of a brief rebellion that lasted for a month until the UNSC ended by agreeing to dismiss the then-current governor (who was horribly corrupt) and allowing the colonists to elect a new governor. The colonists were further satisfied when the former governor was given a long prison sentence for embezzling billions of credits from the colony's treasury, bribing Colonial Administration Authority (CAA) officials to ignore his crimes, and for fishing in restricted waters without a license. The _Salamander_ also passed this by.

At last, after a little over 3 hour journey, the _Salamander_ reached its rendezvous location at Epsilon Eridani's superior IJP. A fleet of ships was already waiting there to serve as _Salamander_'s more-or-less permanent escort.

"I never thought I'd see the day the UNSC would gather that large a fleet just to escort just one ship," Cutter commented.

"Well, the _Salamander_ _is_ the first of its class and not only uses, but holds a plethora of prototype and experimental technologies. I'd think HIGHCOM would want to make sure nothing happens to their _very_ expensive ship, don't you think?" de Medici asked.

Cutter merely nodded in agreement as he continued examining the fleet.

The escort fleet was indeed rather large. Formally named Battle Group X-Ray-7, it was composed of a cruiser squadron (CRURON) with 4 _Autumn_-class heavy cruisers, 3 destroyer squadrons (DESRON) with 5 _Echidna_-class heavy destroyers and 10 _Strident_-class heavy frigates, a _Restitution_-class supply ship, and a _Sahara_-class heavy prowler: a grand total of 21 ships. All ships were arranged in a classic "battle sphere" formation, so named because a visual representation of their sensor ranges looked like a rough sphere. The formation was designed such that each ship had its bows unobstructed so that they were able to make use of their bow-mounted magnetic accelerator cannons (MACs) without risk of hitting a friendly ship while still leaving enough distance from one another to maintain a viable point-defense and sensor net and leaving room to maneuver to boot.

'_Truly, this is a powerful force. The addition of energy shields on all ships only makes it more powerful. Even that Covenant warship we fought over Harvest would have had the fight of its life against this,'_ Cutter thought.

Natsu then interrupted any further thoughts from Cutter. **"Cap'n, we've got an incoming transmission from one of the cruisers, the **_**Sword of Damocles**_**."**

"Put it on screen," Cutter ordered.

A video link opened up on the bridge's main viewscreen, showing a blue-eyed woman in her mid-to-late 20's with black hair so dark it looked almost blue tied up in a tight bun. The bronze oak leaf of a Lieutenant Commander sat on her shoulders and engraved on the nametag across the right breast of her uniform was the name "TRAYDOR".

The woman saluted. **"Read Admiral Cutter. Lieutenant Commander Maria Traydor, at your service,"** Traydor said crisply.

Cutter returned the salute. "Lieutenant Commander Traydor, it's a pleasure to meet you." He looked at the woman, somewhat surprised at her young age. "Are you the highest ranking officer here?"

Traydor stiffened slightly. **"Yes. Aside from you, I am the highest ranking officer here."**

Cutter immediately regretted his choice of words. Now he had no idea what to say to resolve this.

Fortunately, he didn't have to.

"Hey, Mary. How are you doing?" de Medici greeted casually.

Traydor's gaze suddenly snapped to de Medici as if she had just only noticed her presence (which she did). Her expression was almost indescribable. It wasn't quite detest, but she wasn't exactly overjoyed to see de Medici either. It was somewhere in between.

"**Ah, de Medici. What a surprise to see you,"** Traydor greeted flatly.

"Aw, after so long, that's all you have to say? That's kind of sad," de Medici answered back casually.

"Don't act so familiar with me! You're an officer of the UNSC! Act like it!" Traydor shouted with a vein bulging on her temple.

Meanwhile, Cutter just scratched his cheek in confusion. "Do you two know each other?" he asked.

A simultaneous answer of "Yes," and "Sort of," came from de Medici and Traydor respectively.

One of his graying eyebrows raised itself up. "Am I missing something here?" he asked with amusement.

"Pretty much," and "No," came from de Medici and Traydor respectively, again in simultaneous chorus.

"**Quite the charming pair they make, don't they?"** a snarky feminine voice quipped in a British accent.

Cutter ears perked up at the familiar voice. "Is that…?"

An AI's avatar suddenly appeared on the bridge's central holotank next to Natsu, who jumped in surprise. The avatar was of a young woman with long brown hair wearing a long-sleeved white shirt and black pants with black boots. She looked perfectly human. The only difference, a difference which Natsu shared, was that her body shimmered with the pale, golden glow distinctive of current-generation smart AIs. She turned to Cutter and smirked.

"**Why Captain, you **_**must**_** be getting old. I didn't think you'd forget me so soon. Perhaps you should retire to a nice, comfy old people home? I've heard Brighton is quite lovely this time of year,"** the AI quipped.

Cutter smiled at the familiar bite of her voice. "It's good to see you too, Serina. How you've been?" he asked the former AI of his previous command.

"**Not bad, really. After they fixed that little problem I had with rampancy, I was assigned to the **_**Sword of Damocles**_**. The **_**Sword**_**'s computer banks are much roomier than the ones on the **_**Spirit**_**, so it's much more comfy here. My current captain is normally quite the bore. Can you believe she chose "**_**Sic Semper Tyrannis**_**" as the **_**Sword**_**'s motto? I mean really, how cliché is that? Fortunately, she's so fun to tease. She gets completely flustered whenever I mention-"**

"**Anyway!"** Traydor said loudly, cutting off Serina mid-sentence. **"HIGHCOM informed me that you are due to jump with us to the Sol system. So would you please get moving…sir."** Traydor said before cutting the transmission.

"Well, that was…interesting," Cutter said after a while.

"She certainly is, isn't she?" de Medici commented.

"**I don't like that Serina. Too snooty,"** Natsu muttered.

Cutter cleared his throat. "In any event, Natsu, take us to the center of the battle-sphere. Contact Epsilon Eridani Traffic Control and get us a slot for a Slipspace jump. I want the fleet moving ASAP."

"**Will do, cap'n!"** the AI reported enthusiastically before disappearing.

Epsilon Eridani Traffic Control was the system responsible for monitoring and directing all ships coming in and out of the star system, with the two Interstellar Jump Points [3] being closely monitored in particular.

Seven seconds after the order was given, Natsu returned. **"Traffic Control reports the IJP will be clear for departure in ten minutes!"** he reported loudly.

Cutter nodded. "Understood. Alert the fleet that we'll be making the jump in ten minutes. And connect me to the 1MC."

"**Aye, cap'n."**

As soon as the connection was established, Cutter began his ship-wide announcement.

**UNSC **_**Salamander**_** Engineering Deck**

**Lance Corporal Jakob E. Branley**

**0908 hours**

All members of Team Vanguard looked up as the 1MC, the ship's public address channel, came on. Cutter's voice was clearly audible, even over the 1MC.

"**Attention all hands, attention all hands! We will be making the jump to the Sol system in 10 minutes. Secure all loose equipment and prepare for slipspace jump. That is all."**

"Sol, huh. Haven't been back to Earth in a while. Haven't been back to New Mombasa in a while either. It feels like ages since we last got some down time," Jakob said wistfully. "Hey, Taiga. You got any plans when we get to Sol?"

Taiga held a finger to her chin as she thought. "I think I'll go visit my family in Crisium City. I haven't seen them in a long, long time. I wonder if _nee_-san would recognize me?" she wondered.

Sar looked back and forth from Jakob to Taiga as they reminisced about their families and she sighed. "Now I want to go visit mama's ship," Sar muttered in Kig-Yar.

Tak laid a 3-clawed hand on Sar's shoulder. "There, there. I'm sure we'll get enough time to head back to the _Law of Reciprocity _for a bit. We'll even make sure to bring back souvenirsfor everyone, won't we?" Tak asked in Kig-Yar as well.

Sar immediately cheered up. "Yes! Let's do that!" she screeched in Kig-Yar, causing Jakob and Taiga to jump in shock.

"Wow! You nearly gave me a heart attack from that!" Jakob shouted as Sar looked back in confusion. The innocent expression on her tilted face through the currently unpolarized visor dispelled his anger pretty quickly. After he'd calmed down some, Jakob asked Sar, "So what are you going to do once we get to Sol?"

Sar hopped up and down in excitement. "Tak and me go visit Earth! Buy souvenirs! Go visit mama's ship!" she answered back energetically.

Jakob and Taiga laughed at how eager Sar was while Tak just bared his fangs a little in a grin. "So which one of Earth's many cities are you going to visit while you're there?" Jakob asked.

Sar stopped hopping and thought about it, tilting her head as she thought. After a few minutes, she answered, "Don't know. Which city is best?"

"New Mombasa," Jakob answered immediately.

"Crisium City," Taiga answered immediately as well.

Silence filled the area they were guarding as the two simultaneous answers echoed through the air.

"Crisium City?! You're kidding me!" Jakob cried. "Crisium City's not even on Earth; it's on Luna! Not to mention, New Mombasa beats Crisium City any day!" Jakob declared.

"What?! No way! What's so great about New Mombasa anyway?" Taiga asked.

"Okay, let me tell you." Jakob held up a hand with fingers splayed. "One," he retracted his index finger. "They rebuilt the Mombasa Tether back in 2560 and it's now stronger than ever. The city's now a thriving center of trade again. Two," he retracted his middle finger. "The people there are the nicest in the world, especially since dad became police chief. No corrupt police means no angry citizens. Three," he held down his ring finger. "Jonas's kebabs are the best in the galaxy. Four," he held down his pinky. "The Uplift Nature Reserve is still there. In fact, it was one of the few structures to survive the glassing of the city. They have elephants, zebras, lions, hippos, and even Moas from Reach! Five," he started to hold down his thumb, but he stopped as he couldn't think of anything more to say about his home city. "Five…five…is…the skyscrapers are tall," he finished lamely. When no one said anything, he added, "The tallest skyscraper in New Mombasa is the Memorial Tower at 2,140 meters tall."

After a few moments of silence, Tak was the first to offer an opinion. "You started off well, and you almost finished perfectly, but you stumbled at the end. I give that a 7.5 out of 10," he commented like a judge at a race.

"Uh, thanks?" Jakob said.

Taiga by now looked fit to burst. "Oh, yeah? Well Crisium City has that, and more! There's the Mare Crisium Mass Driver Complex, the Tranquility Base Museum, the _Hatenko_ _Douji_ Dojo, _Shimadori_ Ramen, Curry Palace, and Russian Sushi," she listed off.

Another few moments of silence passed by.

"Okay, I see some problems in those," Jakob said. "One, the Tranquility Base Museum is hundreds of miles to the city's southwest. Two, why a dojo of all places? Three, ramen is boring. Four, why curry? And five, what the hell is Russian Sushi?!"

"Its sushi, but Russian!" Taiga countered. "It's really good! And ramen is not boring! Your kebab guy is boring!"

"What?! He's not boring! You're dojo is boring!" Jakob counter-countered.

As they started bickering over which highlights of their cities they think is the best, Sar turned to Tak. "Both cities sound great. Let's make some time to visit both," Sar said to Tak in Kig-Yar.

Tak scratched his chin as he thought. "It will be tricky making the schedule, but I think it's workable. I'm sure everyone will appreciate the souvenirs we get too," Tak answered back in Kig-Yar as well.

Sar and Tak continued discussing their vacation plans even as Jakob and Taiga continued their bickering. Taiga extended a finger and poked Jakob in the chest armor. Unfortunately, this caused one of the armored pockets on Jakob's armor to pop open and the piece of paper with that strange fortune on it flew out.

Jakob's hand reached out to try and grab it, but the fortune slipped out of his grasp. "Shit, someone catch it!" he shouted as he frantically tried to grab it, but to no avail.

As the paper flew by Sar though, her hand shot out with lightning-quick speed and snatched it out of the air. She then walked over to Jakob and handed it back with a "Here."

Jakob muttered a "Thanks," and slipped the piece back into the pocket it had slipped out of. He then made doubly sure the pocket was tightly shut before he was satisfied.

Taiga stared at the pocket. "What's with that thing, anyway? That has to be the third or fourth time it's done that," she said.

"The fifth," Jakob corrected sadly as he remembered all the incidents when that little piece of paper had slipped out of his pocket. The first time had been when he'd opened the door to the armory. What followed was a brief chase through the room as the fortune blew away before it was finally caught. He kept telling himself that the door's opening had unlocked its vacuum seal and the resulting gust of air had blown it out of his pocket and that nothing weird had happened. But then came the incident where he'd bent down to open a drawer full of ammo, and the pocket somehow came undone and the paper slipped out yet again. Then came the incident when he accidently bumped into a Sangheili Ranger and the paper slipped out again. By then, Jakob was convinced that there was something weird going on with that little piece of paper with the armored, yellow Kig-Yar on it, as if it had a life of its own. The next two incidents just solidified that belief.

Jakob turned to Tak. "Hey, Tak. If you ever see a yellow Kig-Yar wearing medieval plate armor, warn me," he said.

Tak blinked several times at the odd request. "I've never heard of any Kig-Yar with yellow coloration, but I'll make sure to warn you if I see one; medieval plate armor or not."

Jakob nodded and went back to guard duty. _'Maybe I should think about getting a roll of EB Green _[4]_, just in case'_ he thought.

**Epsilon Eridani Superior Interstellar Jump Point**

**UNSC **_**Salamander**_** Combat Information Center**

**RADM James G. Cutter**

**0918 hours**

Cutter watched as a massive _Parabola_-class freighter exited from a Slipspace portal in the IJP and glided past the fleet.

"**This is Epsilon Eridani Traffic Control to Battle Group X-Ray-7, you may commence slipspace jump at this time,"** the monitoring station reported.

"**Ship's in formation and all ships report their Slipspace drives are spun up and ready to go, cap'n!" **Natsu reported with excitement in his voice.

Cutter smiled. The thought of returning back to Sol to his wife filled his heart with joy. "Excellent, Natsu. Tell the fleet to make the jump," Cutter ordered.

"**Aye, cap'n!"**

Moments later, Slipspace portals of varying sizes opened up in front of the ships. The portals were bluish-white at their rims with their centers were pitch-black, like holes carved in space-time itself.

Another moment later, the ships entered the Slipspace portals. The crew of the ships felt the act of entering Slipspace as an indescribable sensation washing over their bodies. A few people became nauseous from the strange sensations, but most were unaffected due to either their own natural resistance or from repeated exposure. Moments after the ships entered the portals, they collapsed behind them\ ships, leaving nothing but the void of space and the light of the stars as the fleet were sent on their way to Sol.

**Sol Superior Interstellar Jump Point**

**UNSC **_**Sword of Damocles **_**Combat Information Center**

**Lieutenant Commander Maria Traydor**

**0939 hours**

LCDR Traydor watched in relief through the viewscreen as the fleet safely transitioned back in to normal space.

'_I know the risks of travelling through slipspace these days are even lower than it had been before the Great War, but still…'_ she thought.

"Serina, contact EARTHCOM for the _Salamander_'s location and set out course for them," Traydor ordered.

"**Aye, captain, communicating wi…captain, I'm getting a priority message from EARTHCOM. Patching it through now."**

A small box blinked into existence on the main viewscreen before enlarging into view. On it, the aged face ofFleet Admiral Lord Terrence Hood, Chief of Naval Operations, was displayed, the five stars of his rank clearly visible on his shoulder pauldrons. His normally calm face was now wrinkled with worry and in the background, his staff was moving with frantic purpose.

"**Lieutenant Commander Traydor, has the **_**Salamander**_** arrived with you?"** the old admiral asked.

Traydor's eyes widened in surprise. "No, Admiral. They were supposed to have arrived long before us. What happened?"

The admiral's expression grew grim. **"It's what didn't happen that has us worried. The **_**Salamander**_** was supposed to have arrived immediately after making the jump to Sol according to the specifications of the new drive they were testing. It didn't. We'd assumed, or rather, we were hoping that they'd decided to use more normal methods to traverse Slipspace. Now though…,"** Admiral Hood took a deep breath. **"I'm officially declaring a Broken Arrow."**

Traydor sat back down on her crashseat hard. The codeword Broken Arrow had once been used to designate an accidental event involving nuclear weapons that did not create the risk of nuclear war. Nowadays, it was used to designate a UNSC ship lost by means other than combat.

"**I'm ordering all available ships to sweep the area between here and Reach for the **_**Salamander**_**. Hopefully we'll find them. Hood out." **The transmission cut off.

Sitting in her crashseat, Traydor was lost in her own thoughts. She thought about the missing ship with over 24,000 people on board, but it was one in particular she was thinking about currently. She had not seen Angelina de Medici since their graduation from the Luna OCS Academy, and their reunion had caught her by surprise.

Her relationship with de Medici was complicated. She was her classmate, coworker, self-proclaimed rival (long story), and self-proclaimed eternal arch-enemy (even longer story), but she was also the closest thing Traydor had to a true friend. And she was not someone who would abandon her friends.

Her eyes took on a determined light. "Serina."

"**Yes, captain?"** the AI asked without her usual snark.

"Inform HIGHCOM that Battle Group X-Ray-7 will be participating in the search for the UNSC _Salamander_ as of right now." Traydor's expression turned into a grim smile. "I swear upon my honor as an officer of the UNSC that we'll find the _Salamander_ and bring her and her crew home, or we'll die trying. Now turn this ship around!"

"**Aye, captain. Setting course for an extremely low probability of success SAR mission that might or might not result in our deaths. Huzzah."**

Traydor gave the AI a strange look, but turned her attention back to the holotank as the entire fleet did a 180.

'_For god's sakes, why is this always happening to you, Captain?'_ Serina thought. _'First the _Spirit_, now the _Salamander_? One might think you were cursed to disappear on us. At least the _Salamander_ is tougher than your last ship…I hope.'_

**504****th**** "Ardor Witches" Joint Fighter Wing Base, Pratica de Mare, Romagna, Earth**

**March 5, 1945 (Operation Trajanus + 1 day)**

**Captain Marian E. Carl**

**1905 hours**

Marian sat on a steel bench outside the base's medical wing in the waiting room. Her foot tapped a steady rhythm as she waited for news on how her friend, Junko Takei, was doing and whether or not she could see her.

After what seemed like eternity to her, a girl with blonde hair tied into a ponytail and wearing the uniform of the Romagnan Air Force walked towards her.

"You're Captain Carl, right?" the girl asked.

Marian immediately stood up and snapped to attention. "Yes, ma'am. Captain Marian Carl, 506th. How is-"

The girl held up a hand, cutting Marian off. "Calm down. My name is Martina Crespi, _Tenente_ (First Lieutenant) of the Romagnan Air Force, proud member of the _Pantaloni Rossi _[5], and currently assigned to the 504th Joint Fighter Wing." She gave a slight grin. "Though we are currently indisposed now and will not be available for some time," she joked and laughed half-heartedly. When Marian did not react, she stopped and her current expression was replaced by something more somber. "You're here to see, _Capitano_ Takei, right?" she asked.

Marian nodded.

"Well, she's awake, so…I guess you can visit. But be very quiet, or Fernandia will yell at you."

'_She sounds like she's talking from experience,'_ Marian thought as she followed Martina through the double doors.

After passing through several hallways, they finally arrived in a quiet room filled with beds. Filling those beds were several sleeping members of the 504th JFW. One wasn't, and she turned her head at the sight of Marian presence.

"Ah, Marian-chan. _Konnichiwa_," Captain Junko Takei said pleasantly.

Marian gulped. "_Konnichiwa_," she answered awkwardly as she walked over and pulled over a chair to sit next to her dearest friend.

Marian had been shocked at her friend's state. The last time Marian had seen her, Junko was a healthy young woman with a calm, peaceful demeanor that could bring peace of mind to anyone who talked with her. Junko still had that demeanor, but it was now a fragile thing that seemed like it could break at any time. Her face was pale and gaunt and her eyes were sunken into her skull, as if she hadn't eaten for many weeks.

"I don't look like much, do I?" Junko asked calmly, startling Marian out of her reverie.

"Um, no, I mean, yes, I mean, well…" Marian trailed off.

Junko giggled lightly, though even that little effort strained her. "Don't worry about it, Marian-chan. I'm practically uninjured compared to some of my girls." She looked over to her right.

Marian followed her gaze until her eyes rested on the still form of Dominica S. Gentile laying on the next bed over. If anything, she looked even more pale and gaunt than Junko. If not for the slight movement of her breathing, Marian would've thought her to be a corpse instead of a living person. Snoring next to Dominica was her wife, Jane T. Godfrey, who looked healthy and uninjured, though her brow was wrinkled with worry. One hand was clasped over Dom's.

Marian could only stare at the condition of the 504th's top ace. "Ho-How did she…"

Junko shook her head. "From what the medics told me, Dom had pushed Jane out of the path of a Neuroi beam and took the hit. The beam went through her right lung and flash-boiled the surrounding tissue, almost completely destroying half the organ. Malvezzi had to work hard to reconstruct the lung with her powers while making sure her other teammates didn't bleed to death in the meantime."

Marian stared at Dom for a few moments longer before returning her gaze to Junko. "So where is Malvezzi anyways?" she asked.

Junko gestured with her chin and Marian looked to her right to see Fernandia Malvezzi soundly asleep with what appeared to be a half-eaten chocolate bar grasped in one hand and a medical textbook about human anatomy in the other. Marian watched as Martina from earlier carefully removed the chocolate bar and placed it on the desk next to her, then just the carefully fixed the blanket. The brunette witch mumbled cutely in her sleep as Martina pulled the blanket up to cover Fernandia's shoulders.

"She's been working hard. Malvezzi's been running back and forth between us and the mundane pilots who've been injured. No wonder's she's so tired," Junko explained.

Several moments of silence passed before Marian could work up the nerve to ask her question. "Um, Junko, what happened out there? After your encounter with the humanoid Neuroi, I mean."

Junko's eyes took on a distant look as she recalled the events from yesterday. "It seemed like it was going well with the meeting, then that thing showed up. Planes fell left and right, forcing us to divide our time between protecting them and engaging the Neuroi coming out of that hive. I saw Mazzei go down with a chunk of her thigh gone, and Nishiki had to pull out after being blinded by a Neuroi beam. Then after I was hit, everything went dark. I remember waking up afterwards with Malvezzi over me. She said a Neuroi beam had hit in my right kidney." She laughed lightly again. "I told her to go heal the others and that people could live with one kidney, but she would have none of it." Junko then turned her head and stared straight into Marian's eyes. "Marian-chan. That Neuroi saved me."

Marian stared at her in shock. "You mean that humanoid Neuroi. But why?"

Junko shook her head. "I don't know. All I know is that if it hadn't shoved me out of the way when it did, I would've have died when the hive fired its beam. Why did it do that? Why?" As she rambled on, Junko's voice got quieter and her eyes drooped closed. "_Naze ka…_" she muttered in Fusoan before finally falling asleep.

Marian got up and fixed Junko's blanket. "_Oyasumi_, Junko," Marian said quietly in Fusoan.

As she watched Junko's sleeping face, Marian was struck by a powerful surge of affection for her friend. She leaned over and kissed Junko lightly on the lips. She felt something akin to an electric current run through her as their lips made contact and she felt a surge of warmth rush through her. Even after she let go, she still felt that warmth and a feeling of desire for Junko.

Then she suddenly remembered she wasn't alone. She turned to her right and was suddenly looking at the grinning face of Martina Crespi.

"Sooo, you like Captain Takei, huh?" she teased.

Marian felt a blush go up into her face as it turned as bright a red as a ripe tomato. "N-No. Tha-That was a…a…a platonic kiss," she finished lamely.

Martina's grin got wider, to about Cheshire cat level. "Ohhh?" She then skipped out of the room singing quietly, "Marian likes Junko, Marian likes Junko."

A vein bulged on Marian's temple. "Hey, get back here, you brat," she hissed quietly as she chased Martina, leaving the room basked in silence once more.

Addendum:

[1]: The word "dyke", as used by Tony, was a derogatory term for homosexual women dating back to the early 20th century. The exact origin of the word "dyke" has been lost to history, but historians generally agree that the term originated from the word "bulldyker", which itself was also a derogatory word term for a homosexual woman, indicating that "dyke" was simply a contraction. Regardless, the use of the word "dyke" as a derogatory word to refer to homosexual women continued until the late 20th and early 21st century, when the word started to be reclaimed by LGBT groups as a symbol of pride. By the end of the 21st century, "dyke" had completely lost its negative connotations and had even inspired other terms such as "dyking" to refer to going out with someone of the same gender, regardless of the person's actual gender. As homosexuality became part of mainstream culture, the word "dyke" gradually fell out of usage in favor of more modern terms. By the mid-23rd century, "dyke" had completely disappeared from usage in Standard English and was now considered obsolete, with only a few Outer Colony worlds still using it. As a result, few people born in the Inner Colonies, or even the vast majority of the Outer Colonies, even know what the word means anymore.

[2]: The Mgalekgolo used three different forms of "we". "We" was used to refer to a single Lekgolo colony; there was no Mgalekgolo word for "I" since they do not regard individual Lekgolo as sentient. "_We_" was used exclusively to refer to a pair of bond brothers since they tended to think of themselves as two parts of a whole. "**We**" was used to refer to the Lekgolo as a species. While individual colonies thought of themselves as separate individuals (with the exception of bond brothers), they did have some concept of unity as a species and "**we**" was a perfect example of this. Note that the same rules applied to the Mgalekgolo word for "you" and that they applied those terms to other species as well.

[3]: Interstellar Jump Points are locations in a star system (usually on the edge of the ecliptic) that provide ideal conditions for entering and exiting slipspace. The IJPs correspond on a point-by-point basis with areas of unusually high stability in slipspace. Any ship jumping to and from a system's IJP can expect to arrive faster and in a more consistent time and location than if the ship were to make a random Slipspace jump. Using the IJP also imposes less of a burden of the ship's slipspace drive and reduces wear and maintenance cost, making use of IJPs particularly attractive to freighter captains. Most star systems have at least two IJPs: called the Superior IJP and the Inferior IJP for their stability level and ease of use.

[4]: EB Green was a brand of high-strength duct tape in use since 2432 with a distinctive green color. It was named after a brand of adhesive cloth tape used by the United States submarine fleet, which was also called "EB Green" and was also a green color. EB Green was not only rated to withstand up to 350 mph winds, but was also resistant to rapid changes in heat and was waterproof, making it very popular with military personnel for a wide variety of uses.

[5]: The _Pantaloni Rossi_ were an elite witch unit serving in the Romagnan Air Force. The name literally means "Red Pants", as they wore red panties to signify their elite status. The _Pantaloni Rossi_ were credited with some of the highest kill counts in Romagna during the Human-Neuroi War.


	4. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hi there again! Welcome to the next chapter of HalCoN. I've had a rash of inspiration lately, so I finished this chapter pretty early.**

**And as before, please leave a review, at least a sentence's worth. Single word responses are not reviews. And no flames, please.**

**Aaaaand, let's begin!**

* * *

**Chapter 2- Where's Captain Nemo When You Need Him?!**

**Slipspace**

**UNSC **_**Salamander**_** CIC**

**March 4, 2575**

**0918 hours (+/– 0.3 seconds)**

James Cutter looked at the wall-mounted viewscreens, each broadcasting its view of the outside area using feeds from externally-mounted cameras, and stared at the view; or more precisely, the utter lack of one. Since slipspace lacked any light in the visible spectrum, no matter where you looked, there was only darkness.

Due to that little oddity of slipspace, it was quite easy for Cutter to turn his attention away from the view.

'_Once you've seen one section of slipspace, you've seen them all,'_ Cutter thought wryly.

"Natsu, connect me to Dr. Voroshilov. I think it's about time we see if that new drive does what he said it would do," James Cutter ordered.

"**Aye, cap'n! Connecting to Doc Voroshilov's COM pad!"** Natsu shouted.

* * *

**UNSC **_**Salamander**_** Engineering Deck**

**0918 hours (+/– 0.3 seconds)**

Dr. Voroshilov looked up from inspecting his Hermes Drive as his COM pad started playing its ringtone (Back to the Future Overture, if you wanted to know).

"**Sir, your COM pad is ringing,"** Guileless Curiosity the monitor pointed out as it hovered near him.

"Thank you, Curosity. I am aware of that," Dr. Voroshilov replied as he pulled his COM pad out of a pocket on his lab coat. He looked at the caller ID signature. It was Admiral Cutter, of course. Dr. Voroshilov pressed a button on the flat, rectangular device to accept the COM and Rear Admiral Cutter's face blinked into existence on the screen. "What is it, Rear Admiral Cutter?" Dr. Voroshilov asked.

"**Dr. Voroshilov, we've entered slipspace and are almost ready to begin running your slipspace drive-"**

"Hermes Drive," Dr. Voroshilov corrected.

There was silence for a moment before Cutter continued. **"Yes, your Hermes Drive. As I said, we're almost ready to begin. After I make an announcement to the crew, you may start it up."**

The COM transmission cut off. A moment later, there was the familiar chime of a public address message as Cutter made his announcement.

"**Attention all hands, this is Cutter speaking…"**

Dr. Voroshilov stopped paying attention to it at that point. "Sentinels, help me perform a final check on the Hermes Drive," he ordered.

The various Aggressor, Assembler, Constructor, and Enforcer Sentinels floating around beeped a confirmation and they began flying around the large device in the room, scanning it with bright blue beams from hyperspectral imaging equipment for any defects that might interfere with its operation.

"**Are you sure this is quite necessary?"** Curiosity asked. **"We've already examined the Hermes Drive for defects 6 times in the past 3 hours and 54 minutes. I'm sure we would've already found any defects already if they'd existed."**

Dr. Voroshilov turned to face the monitor. "Nonsense. There is no harm in checking everything once more. In fact, there is every reason to do so. I have watched far too many science fiction holo-films of experiments that have gone horribly wrong just because someone did not check their procedures and/or equipment thoroughly enough. I have not come this far just to have my experiment fail because of something so utterly meaningless and pedestrian," he said firmly.

Curosity thought long and hard about Dr. Voroshilov's words. Though with the monitor's processing speed, it took less than a fraction of a second for it to formulate a reply. **"Your logic holds true. Very well, then," **Curiosity answered simply.

A few minutes later, Cutter's announcement ended and Cutter contacted Dr. Voroshilov once more. **"That's it. You have a go,"** Cutter said over Dr. Voroshilov's COM pad.

At that moment, the Sentinels returned from their examination of the Hermes Drive. **"All scans completed,"** an Aggressor Sentinel reported. **"No defects detected. Slight contamination of Fuse 31 by the substance called 'dirt' detected. Situation resolved."**

Dr. Voroshilov breathed out in relief and headed over to the control panel sitting just in front of the Hermes Drive. He sat down on the crashseat and locked himself in. He pressed a series of buttons that caused the massive cylindrical device to power up with a hum. The device glowed with a white light that bathed the room.

"Today, history shall record this moment as the birth of a new age of instantaneous FTL travel," Dr. Voroshilov declared as he reached over with his left hand and flipped up a covering, revealing a blue switch underneath. "_Sic itur ad astra,_ [1]" he spoke quietly as he flipped the switch.

Outside, the _Salamander_'s bow was suddenly bathed in white light as a small disc of negative mass particles appeared in front of the ship. The bridge officers watched with fascination as the disc quickly expanded and soon enveloped the entire 3.5 kilometer bulk of the ship in a massive bubble. As soon as the bubble was complete, the surrounding space rippled and the bubble collapsed and disappeared, taking the ship with it.

* * *

**Location: Unknown (Tentative Name: Extra-Dimensional Space)**

**UNSC **_**Salamander**_** CIC**

**March 4, 2575 ****(Presumably)**

**Time: Error. Calculation failure. Recalculating…**

As the bubble of negative mass particles faded, all eyes in the bridge were glued to the images being displayed on the wall-mounted viewscreens. The feed from the external cameras showed a spacescape that bore as much a resemblance to slipspace as an elephant did to an ant; in other words, not at all.

The surrounding space was a tie-dye of Technicolor filaments, clouds, and assorted indescribable objects that made the scenery look as though they were in a drug addict's hallucination of a nebula. There were no stars, but strange glowing storms spiraled everywhere in the distance and seemed to take the place of stars. The occasional lightning flashed in the distance, completely at odds with the laws of physics, and strange lights danced far off into the gloom.

After a while, Cutter found his voice again. "Does anyone know where we are?" he asked.

Nobody on the bridge answered, for nobody had the slightest idea where the hell this was.

"**We are currently within the realm I have tentatively called Extra-Dimensional Space,"** Dr. Voroshilov explained, making several bridge officers jump as they'd forgotten that he was still connected to the bridge. **"This area, according to my observation of the data collected by my drones, is outside our known dimension and even outside slipspace altogether. As you can see, this space is far different from slipspace."**

Nobody spoke for several moments. "How is this…possible?" de Medici asked incredulously. "Where is the light illuminating the area coming from?"

"**For your first question, Lieutenant Commander** **de Medici, I have already explained how my Hermes Drive's operation to you and Rear Admiral Cutter. For your second, I am unsure, but I believe those hurricane-like objects are providing the visible light necessary for illumination."**

"What are they?" PO3 Czherny asked as he adjusted his glasses for a better view.

"**I am not entirely certain. I have sent drones to investigate them, but as they moved closer to the objects, the drones were drawn towards them, as if they were a high-gravity object. Contact with the drones were lost when they entered the 'eye' of the hurricane-like objects. For that reason, I believe it is best that we avoid them for the time being."**

Cutter nodded. "Agreed. So how do we get out of this…place?" he asked.

"**Coordinates in Extra-Dimensional Space corresponds on a point-by-point basis with coordinates in slipspace much like how slipspace corresponds with n-space on a point-by-point basis. All we have to do is travel to the coordinates that corresponds to where slispace corresponds with the Sol system and activate the Hermes Drive once more to travel back to the corresponding slipspace coordinates. Once back in slipspace, all we need to do is exit it,"** Dr. Voroshilov explained.

Cutter found himself becoming more and more exasperated with Dr. Voroshilov's long-winded explanations. "And where exactly are these coordinates we have to travel to?" he ground out.

"**Curiosity?"** Dr. Voroshilov asked.

Moments later, a hologram of the monitor Guileless Curiosity suddenly appeared above the central holotank next to Natsu, making him jump again.

"**Hello again, sirs!"** the monitor chirped happily. **"I'll be acting as your navigator for this trip. Just follow the waypoints I'm going to set up and we'll be just fine."**

"**Will you stop popping in like that?!" **Natsu yelled angrily.

"**My apologies, Mr. Natsu,"** the monitor apologized before saying, **"Well, shall we get going?"**

Soon after, a virtual representation of the surrounding space appeared above the holotank with the _Salamander_ sitting at the center. A series of glowing dots connected by lines began just off the bow and disappeared off the hologram.

All the bridge officers and Natsu looked to Cutter for his answer.

"Well, it beats sitting around here all day and waiting for something to happen," Cutter answered after a moment of thought. "Follow those dots," he ordered.

"**Aye, cap'n!"** Natsu saluted with a grin as the bridge officers felt a slight tugging as the fusion drives fired back up.

The _Salamander_ followed the glowing dots like breadcrumbs left in the forest for what seemed like an eternity. While the ship was gliding along, the bridge officers passed the time by enjoying the view and wondering what the hell they were looking at.

"This looks like a nebula, but it can't be," de Medici commented after a while. "Real nebulae aren't supposed to be this dense. This is almost like an atmosphere in density."

"**According to my sensors," **Natsu piped up. **"The surrounding area **_**is**_** actually filled with some kind of gaseous material."**

Every one of the bridge officers was astonished by this fact. "Are you saying we _are_ in some kind of atmosphere?" Cutter asked Natsu incredulously.

"**I don't know. ****The gas is at an extremely low density, about 1/50 the density of Earth's atmosphere, and **I can't make out what kind of material this stuff is made of. My external sensors keep telling me it's some kind of unknown material. I'll have to take a sample for further analysis," Natsu reported.

"**Please do. In fact, take additional samples. I wish to analyze it as well,"** Dr. Voroshilov quickly added.

PO3 Czherny had a look of contemplation on his face. "You know, if this is an atmosphere, wouldn't that mean there might be life here?" the young noncom asked.

Everyone on the bridge became silent at the suggestion.

"But that's im-" Cutter closed his mouth before he finished the word "impossible", as many so-called "impossible" things had happened recently.

PO3 Czherny shook his head. "Never mind, you're right. There's no way anything could be living out he-"

Before he could finish his statement, Natsu interrupted. **"Cap'n, I'm getting a weird energy signature. Whatever it is, it's big and heading right for u-"**

Natsu didn't get to finish his report either, for at that moment, something struck the ship hard enough to throw anyone who wasn't strapped in to the ground, and anyone who was still felt like they'd been punched in the chest as the ship tilted wildly.

"The hell happened?!" Cutter shouted over the din of collision alarms.

"**Cap'n! That thing rammed us like a torpedo! It's also drained our shields! We're down to 10% shield strength and it won't last another impact!"** Natsu shouted.

"What thing?!" Cutter shouted back.

The viewscreens shifted their feed upwards and everyone on the bridge gasped/squawked in surprise and shock.

Floating a few hundred kilometers above them was what appeared to be a giant space squid. The creature had a hollow, cylindrical body that slightly tapered at one end. Large fins were located at the tapered end, while over a dozen long, whip-like tentacles sprouted from the untapered end. The creature did not have a visible mouth, but several dark purple "eyes" were located radially along the body behind the tentacles. Its body appeared to be transparent, though no organs could be seen. Instead, the transparent body glowed with a bluish-white light and electricity crackled along its "skin". The creature bobbed along as though it was dazed from its impact with the _Salamander_.

"What the hell is that?" PO3 Czherny asked incredulously.

Whittaker stared at the thing with an opened-jawed expression. "Why, it looks like a giant squid! But how is that possible?!" he asked incredulously

"Natsu, take us up to maximum military thrust! Get us out of here while that thing is still stunned!" Cutter ordered.

"**Aye, cap'n! Bringing us up to max acceleration!"** Natsu shouted.

The ship's fusion drives started to increase their power, but before they could make any significant headway, another impact threw the ship and everyone in it for a loop.

"**Shields are down!"** Natsu shouted.

The external cameras panned to show another one of those space squids attached to the hull near the port engine pod, its long tentacles wrapped around the ship in a bear-er-squid hug. Now that they had a size comparison to look at, the bridge officers could see that the thing was huge. Its main body alone was almost a kilometer long. Combined with the length its tentacles, it was almost two-thirds as long as the _Salamander_.

"How the hell didn't we detect it?!" Janet Cutter shouted.

"**Arrgh!"** Natsu shouted in frustration. **"This weird atmosphere's messing with the radar, lidar, you name it! I'm recalibrating the sensors, but that thing's still on the hull!"**

"Activate all point defense cannons! Take that son of a bitch down!" Cutter shouted.

Outside on the _Salamander_'s hull, several M965 Fortress multi-barrel coilguns swung towards the creature. Each one spun up its 9 barrels and opened fire on it, each one sending a stream of 70mm solid ferric-tungsten shells and high-explosive shells screaming at the space squid at 40 km/s at 9000 rpm. The streams of shells were so thick, they looked like a laser beam.

Then the actual laser beams put them to shame. MEV7-Bastion Nonlinear Point Defense Pulse Cannons rose up from their recessed mountings and each one of their four mirrors angled towards the space squid. As soon as they were properly oriented, each laser cluster sent out four blue beams of focused light. Free-electron lasers in the multi-terajoule range burned into the space squid like lances of blue light.

Even the mighty Mark 2551 Onager MACs added their weight of fire to the barrage, sending 25cm slugs at 100 km/s at the creature. The ferrous tungsten jacketed, Titanium-A slugs fired by the Onagers were far faster than the AP and HE shells fired from the Fortresses, and their greatly increased mass allowed them to do far more damage.

That was, if they had any effect on the space squid. As it was, the creature was mostly unfazed by the firepower being thrown at it. The 70mm HE shells exploded against it without the creature even reacting. The 25cm slugs from the Onagers passed straight through the creature's body without damaging it in any visible way. The lasers seemed to be the only weapons that had any sort of effect on the creature, making it screech in agony. Unfortunately, its tentacles whipped out and smashed into the Bastions firing on it, destroying them and reducing them to slag and floating debris.

The bridge officers watched the firestorm with frustrated expressions. "Damn it! It's not working!" PO1 Mor screeched in frustration.

"Tell the Fortresses and Onagers to cease fire! They're just wasting ammo shooting at that thing!" Cutter ordered.

As the electromagnetic guns shut themselves off, the space squid began moving, crushing an Onager with a tentacle as it moved along the hull, gripping with its tentacles.

"Where the hell is it going?" Cutter asked out of combination frustration and confusion.

De Medici's eyes widened as she saw it head towards the rear of the engine pod and extend its tentacles towards the nozzles of the fusion drives. "Captain! It's trying to get in through the nozzles!" she shouted.

"Shut down the port engines and seal them off! I don't want that thing getting so much as a tentacle tip in my ship!" Cutter ordered.

"**Shit! It's no use!" **Natsu shouted angrily as the space squid reached into the now-dead nozzles. **"It's burning through the doors! Looks like it's trying to get to Reactor One!"**

"Shit!" Cutter cursed. "Send security teams down there now!"

* * *

**UNSC **_**Salamander**_** Engineering Deck**

**Time: Unknown (Still Recalibrating)**

"**Security Alert! Security Alert! Away the Security Alert team to Reactor One! Away the Back-up Alert force to Reactor One! All hands not involved in Security Alert stand fast! We have an intruder in Reactor One! Bring heavy weapons! I repeat, bring heavy weapons!"**

"What kind of intruder are we facing that needs heavy weapons?!" Taiga shouted as Team Vanguard stormed down the hall to Reactor One.

"I believe the question is: how did an intruder get aboard while we're in _slipspace_?!" Tak pointed out.

"Less talking, more running! Now go, go, go!" Jakob urged them on.

Seeing as how they were already on the Engineering Deck when the alert was given, it didn't take long for Team Vanguard to get to the door with "Reactor One" marked above.

"Stack up," Jakob said quietly to his team, who proceeded to stack up on either side of the door with weapons at the ready. Once they were in place, Jakob nodded to Taiga, who pressed the button on the console next to her to open the door. The door to Reactor Room One slid open with a hiss. "UNSC, free-" Jakob's warning died in his throat as he slowly lowered his MA5F. He and his team stared at the sight before them.

Wrapped around Reactor One were several glowing tentacles, each one several meters wide. They extended from the exhaust manifolds where the reactor's plasma was supposed to be diverted into the fusion drives and had wrapped themselves several times around the reactor itself. The tentacles pulsed with energy and superheated the metal it was touching, turning it white-hot.

"What in God's name is that?" Jakob asked flatly.

"_20,000 Leagues Under the Sea in Space_?"

All members of Team Vanguard turned to Tak, the source of the awful joke just now.

"What? I've read Jules Verne before," he explained.

As the other members of the fireteam groaned at the bad joke, Taiga levelled her M45D shotgun at one of the tentacles. "Oh well, time to make some _ikayaki _[2] out of this squid," she said.

Jakob noticed Taiga point her shotgun. "Wait, hold o-" he began, but it was too late.

Taiga pulled the trigger on her M45D, igniting the 8 gauge shell in the chamber and sending tungsten carbide flechettes screaming down the barrel and out the muzzle. They flew out in a tight spread pattern like a swarm of angry bees at the glowing tentacle. That firepower would have made mincemeat out of any organic target. Against the strange creature before them though, they did absolutely nothing.

Well, not exactly nothing. Specifically, they passed through the tentacle and emerged glowing white-hot. The now white-hot flechettes then proceeded to hit various metal parts and ricocheted off them back into the room.

"Get down!" Jakob shouted as he and his team threw themselves down to avoid the ricocheting flechettes whizzing above their heads.

"_God damn dit!_" Jakob cursed in Afrikaans. "Would you learn to think before you shoot?! You almost hit us back here!"

"How the hell was I supposed to know that was going to happen, _baka?!_" Taiga yelled back.

After the flechettes finally stopped bouncing around, Team Vanguard got up and dusted themselves off.

"Well, the good thing is: now we know projectile weapons won't work on it," Jakob commented.

"So now what?" Taiga asked testily.

"Now we use directed energy weapons, of course," Jakob answered matter-of-factly. "Now where-"

Behind him, Sar held up her Type-27 Special Application Scoped Rifle and powered it up with a humming sound. Meanwhile, Tak raised up his Type-55 Directed Energy Rifle/Advanced and grinned as he powered it up as well.

"Okay, you two are up," Jakob announced.

Sar nodded and pointed to the tentacle Taiga had been firing on earlier. "That one," she said to Tak.

"Alright," he answered.

And so, with that said, Sar sighted the reticule from her HUD onto the tentacle and pulled the trigger of her Type-27 SASR, also known as the Beam Rifle. Like most Covenant weaponry, the trigger of the beam rifle was located in such a way that any human using it had to pull the trigger using their middle finger, and so she did. That one action sent a beam of ionized hydrogen atoms screeching from the muzzle into the tentacle at near-light speed.

At the same time, Tak pulled the trigger of his Type-55 DER/A, also known as the Storm Rifle. The weapon immediately spat out superheated bolts of plasma, each one screaming as they flew through the air at supersonic speeds to hit the tentacle Sar was firing at.

The tentacle twitched in response…maybe.

As Sar hissed in frustration, Tak raised his weapon slightly, aimed the Type-58 Underbarrel Grenade Launcher fixed to the underside of the foregrip via rails at the tentacle, and pulled the trigger. The grenade inside shot out with a _fwump_ as it sailed towards the tentacle, glowing with blue light. When it hit the tentacle, the 50mm plasma grenade detonated with a burst of blue fire as the tentacle was engulfed in a miniature sun.

Tak started to grin only the grin to disappear when the fireball of plasma faded and the tentacle was revealed to be unharmed. Even the residual electricity crackling around the tentacle like arcing lightning didn't seem to faze it at all, though it was twitching visibly now. "Well, I'm out of ideas. Anyone else?" Tak asked sarcastically.

Just then, they heard/felt a heavy thumping. Vanguard Team turned around to see two Mgalekgolo walk into the reactor room along with several Marines. The Marines stared at the tentacles coiled around Reactor One much like Vanguard Team did while the two Mgalekgolo seemed to be staring at Vanguard Team.

It took a few seconds for Jakob to realize why. "Nogata? Togumi? Is that you guys?" he asked.

"Yes," they replied in unison.

Jakob stared back at the two Mgalekgolo that wandered off as they headed to the armory and shook his head at the strange coincidence. "Never mind, you guys actually came at the perfect time. Our weapons aren't working on that thing and we need some heavy weapons-"

"Where?" they asked in unison.

Jakob pointed at the tentacle they'd been trying to kill and that was all it took.

As one, the two Mgalekgolo lifted the assault cannons on their right arms and opened fire on the tentacle in question, making the other Marines jump in surprise. Blobs of green plasma arced out from the cannons and smashed into the tentacle like hammers of green fire. This time, there was a reaction from the tentacle. It shuddered. That was it.

The Mgalekgolo roared in combination fury and frustration as they continued to fire on it without much effect as Jakob called to the Marines present to bring something heavier to shoot.

* * *

**UNSC **_**Salamander**_** CIC**

**Time: (Natsu: "Stop asking me already! I'm busy!")**

James Cutter watched the feed from Reactor One as he and the other bridge officers watched the security team futilely engaging the tentacles wrapped around the fusion reactor.

"What the hell is that thing doing in there?" Cutter asked with frustration as he watched another security team bring in a Type-52 plasma cannon into the reactor room.

"**My sensors are showing Reactor One's output is lowering significantly,"** Natsu reported.

"It's probably feeding off the energy," de Medici suggested as she watched the security team finish setting up the plasma cannon and fire it at the tentacles, with predictable results. "It could be it uses those tentacles to suck in energy…no. That has to be it," she said firmly.

"Why do you think that?" Janet Cutter asked as she watched a Marine fire her beam rifle at the tentacle again before holding it to one side as it overheated and emergency cooling system came online.

De Medici pointed to the creature's main body. "Look at how it was keeping its body from touching the plasma flare from the fusion drives while it just extended its tentacles in like it was nothing. I'm betting that the body is vulnerable to attack."

Whittaker rubbed his chin. "But we've hitting it with the point-defense guns. The rounds either detonate prematurely like the HE shells or pass right through it like the slugs. The lasers seemed to work, but they weren't causing enough damage, and they were terajoule-scale lasers."

"Then hit it with something bigger," James Cutter said determinedly. "Natsu, prep an Archer for launch," he ordered.

Natsu grin was as bright as the noon sun. **"Aye, cap'n! Prepping one Archer for launch!"** he shouted enthusiastically before proceeding to dance with joy.

"Could we hit it without damaging our own ship in the process?" Whittaker asked worriedly.

"It's either that or we let that thing continue draining and damaging Reactor One and doing God knows what to my ship," Cutter answered grimly.

"**If you need my services, I can always lend a hand,"** Guileless Curiosity offered, making several officers who'd forgotten about the monitor jump in surprise.

"**Hey! I don't need no help from anybody!"** Natsu shouted angrily.

"**Um, that's a double negative. Does that mean you need help or not?" **Curiosity asked innocently.

"**No!"** Natsu shouted in response.

The monitor hovered in silence for a moment. **"Now I'm even more confused. Do you not want my help or do you?"**

Before Natsu could answer, James Cutter cut in. "Enough! Both of you! Natsu, let Curiosity help with the calculations. I'd feel better if there were two AIs making sure we don't get toasted along with that creature. _Do you understand?_" he asked threateningly.

"**Of course!"** Curiosity answered cheerfully, completely missing the threatening tone.

Natsu was about to argue until he saw de Medici's face. The Lieutenant Commander had a smile on her face, but it was a smile that promised pain and suffering if he didn't follow Cutter's orders. **"Aye, cap'n!"** he squeaked as he saluted.

Another few moments passed before,

"**Okay, I have an Archer cycled into Pod A-1!"** Natsu reported.

"**The electromagnetic launcher is fully charged and ready to fire, sir!" **Curiosity reported.

"Launch Archer, and make sure to avoid damaging us if possible," Cutter ordered.

"**Aye, cap'n!"** Natsu and Curiosity shouted before carrying out their orders very, _very_ enthusiastically.

Outside on the _Salamander_'s hull, near the bow, an armored hatch swung open and out popped an M42 Archer anti-ship missile out from its electromagnetic launcher. The missile oriented itself using RCS thrusters before its fusion drive fired up and it shot away ahead of the ship.

James Cutter's finger stabbed the button near his command chair that connected him to the ship's 1MC. "All hands, brace for impact!" he ordered.

He watched on the feed from Reactor One the security team quickly exit the reactor room and hook themselves onto various handrails using ropes attached to the armor before turning his attention back to the Archer missile.

Guided by the skilled hands of the smart AI Natsu and the monitor Guileless Curiosity, the Archer turned its fusion drive off, flipped around using RCS thrusters again, and restarted its fusion drive to streak back towards the _Salamander_, aiming right at the giant space squid still clutching the port engine pod. The creature noticed the incoming Archer, but paid it no mind because its energy level was too low. Now it would pay for that.

When the Archer was a few kilometers away, Natsu and Curiosity detonated it. The M42 Archer was the latest incarnation of the venerable Archer series of anti-ship missiles. It was equipped with a 25 megaton Casaba-Howitzer nuclear fusion warhead, which allowed it to channel about 85% of the nuclear reaction's energy into a narrow cone forward and essentially be a nuclear shaped charge.

The creature never stood a chance as a little over 21 megatons' worth of radioactive plasma washed over its main body, erasing it from existence like the galaxy's most powerful window scraper. It was a testament to Natsu's and Curiosity's aiming abilities that the hull wasn't even scorched in the process, but it was only the lead foil covering every inch of the _Salamander_'s hull that kept the crew from being bathed in lethal amounts of radiation. None of the bridge crew were sure which deserved more credit.

As the plasma faded away, the extent of the damage to the creature was revealed. Of the main body, there was nothing left. A few molecules (or whatever it was made of) might have survived, but the crew would have had to scour the area behind them to have been sure. The tentacles were the only parts of the remains left, and the ones on the hull were quickly blown away by the ship's acceleration. The ones still jammed into the fusion drives trailed from the nozzles like grotesque streamers.

Every single one of the bridge officers sighed in relief. "Thank God, it's over," Janet Cutter said.

James Cutter nodded in agreement as he watched the tentacle streamers. "Alright, Natsu, Curiosity, continue on our course to the last waypoint. Let's get out of here," he said.

"**Yes, sir,"** Curiosity answered. It brought up a spherical map of the area between itself and Natsu. The _Salamander_ was represented as a glowing, oblong shape while the line of waypoints continued ahead…and terminated at a blinking blue dot. **"Ah, there it is!" **Curiositysaid cheerfully, bobbing up and down with happiness. **"Those are the coordinates we need to go to head back to Sol's slipspace coordinates!"**

Cheering rang throughout the bridge at the report.

"Finally! Something good has happened to us!" James Cutter said happily.

Then…

"**Hey, you guys! I've also recalibrated the sensors to…uh-oh."**

"What now?" James Cutter asked exasperatedly at Natsu's "uh-oh".

"**We've got a contact coming our way fast, back in the direction where we came from."** A dot blinked into existence behind them, closing in on the blinking dot that was their ship. ** "Bringing it up on the viewscreen."**

The dot expanded into view and several groans rang throughout the bridge at the sight of another one of those space squid creature heading right for them. It was flying backwards at them like an Earth squid and it emitted a blue flare from its hollow cavity that didn't seem to affect its tentacles.

**"Crap. Giant squid astern, cap'n!"** Natsu shouted.

"What is that blue glow it's putting out? It looks like a…fusion drive? But it can't be," Whittaker said incredulously.

"Maybe it's capable of naturally producing fusion reactions?" de Medici wondered.

"Well, whatever it's doing, it's gaining on us," James Cutter said grimly. "Natsu, prepare another Archer. Blow that thing to bits."

"**Aye, cap'n! Prepping another Ar-"**

Then suddenly, the squid changed course. It turned 90 degrees and shot away as fast as it could.

"…Okay, what just happened here?" Janet Cutter asked. "Did we scare it off or something?"

"Or maybe something else scared it off," Whittaker said ominously.

Before anyone could respond to that, Natsu broke in again. **"Cap'n! I have a huge contact, 1,000,000 kilometers dead ahead!"**

Huge didn't even begin to describe it. The massive shape that appeared off the edge of the sensor screen had to have been at least 30 times the length of the _Salamander_. On the sensor screen, it had the appearance of a long oblong and it was quickly closing the distance.

"**Increasing magnification on the contact."**

The large blob resolved itself and the contact was revealed. It appeared to be a creature like the squid from earlier, but of a completely different make. This creature had a long and sinuous body like an eel that glowed with a brilliant light. It had no visible eyes or mouth, but it did appear to have long, trailing fins that glowed bright blue. It had a strangely ethereal beauty despite its massive size, or perhaps because of it.

James Cutter's mouth pressed together in a grimace as he stared at the massive creature heading towards them. "Natsu, prep all Archer pods for an alpha strike. Hit it with a full salvo," he ordered.

Natsu's grin got wider and wider. **"Aye, aye, cap'n! Preppin' an Archer alpha strike!"**

All over the _Salamander_'s hull, the hatches of 200 Universal Missile Pods–all containing Archers–snapped open, missiles at the ready in their launchers.

"**Archers ready whenever you are, cap'n!"**

"Very well then, fire," Cutter ordered.

At that order, 200 Archer missiles leapt out of their launchers, oriented themselves forward of the ship, and fired their fusion drives. The storm of missiles raced towards at thousands of kilometers per second like a wall of metal. The creature made no move to avoid the incoming storm. Instead, it did something that shocked the officers.

The entire front third of the creature split open to reveal a truly gargantuan maw that gaped open like a black hole and faced the incoming storm of Archers. When the missiles were only a few hundred kilometers away, they detonated as one, sending lines of plasma screaming at the creature. Only 3 actually missed their target, the rest was dead on. That mass of firepower would have wiped out even a _CAS_-class assault carrier had it hit, except this was no assault carrier. The lines of plasma hit the creature's open maw…and apparently absorbed into it.

The entire bridge was shocked at the sight of 4,250 megatons' worth of plasma disappearing into the creature's gullet. When the storm of plasma faded, not only was the creature unharmed, it looked quite happy. It closed its gigantic mouth and continued heading towards the ship.

"Good God," Whittaker said with awe and fear, expressing the sentiments of the entire bridge crew. "It's like a giant gulper eel," he said quietly.

"Dr. Voroshilov? We need that Hermes Drive of your online, and we need it right this moment," James Cutter ordered.

"**Unfortunately, that is not possible, Rear Admiral Cutter. The power fluctuations caused by that squid-like creature's assault has disrupted the charge my Hermes Drive had been building up. It will take another 35 minutes before it reaches full charge again,"** Dr. Voroshilov reported calmly.

"**Doc, we don't have 35 minutes! That thing will reach us in 15 minutes!"** Natsu said angrily.

James Cutter looked at the sensor map for any way out of this mess. Then, he noticed one of the storm-like objects nearby and a crazy idea popped into his head. "Natsu, get us into the eye of that storm over there," Cutter ordered as he pointed at it on the hologram.

"**Aye, cap'n!"** Natsu shouted as they changed course for the storm. The gigantic contact also adjusted course to chase them.

"Wait, you're not thinking of taking us into there, are you?" Whittaker asked nervously.

"It's better than having that thing, whatever it is, catch us," James Cutter answered.

Nobody answered for a moment. Then Janet Cutter grinned. "Well, if it's down to do or die, I say we go ahead and take action."

De Medici nodded. "Agreed. The captain did manage to get the _Spirit of Fire_ back after all those years more or less in one piece, after all."

Whittaker looked back and forth between the two Lieutenant Commanders and shrugged. "Ah, well. If you two think it's good, I'm in. Let's do this!" he declared.

James Cutter nodded and looked back at the sensor screen to see the rapidly changing distances and swore. They looked like they were going to make it before the creature caught them, but it was going to be close. "Natsu, launch a _Shiva_ at that thing. Get it to slow down and give us some breathing room," he ordered.

On the ship's dorsal side, a large hatch opened up and a massive _Shiva_-class heavy anti-ship missile leapt out, oriented itself towards the creature, and fired its own fusion drive to accelerate into incoming creature. It only had to activate its fusion drive for a few seconds before it was within range and it detonated. The _Shiva_ too was equipped with a Casaba-Howitzer warhead like the Archer, but the _Shiva_ mounted a 2.5 gigaton multi-stage nuclear warhead instead. This particular Casaba-Howitzer also used modified grav-plating instead of non-fissionable uranium to direct the plasma. This resulted in the _Shiva_ being far more  
expensive to manufacture, but allowed 99.9% of the fusion reaction's energy to be directed into the cone of plasma. The resulting cone of plasma would have been enough to obliterate a _CCS_-class battlecruiser with full shields in one hit. Instead, the creature simply opened its mouth and swallowed the plasma once more.

Fortunately, the Shiva's goal was already achieved. The creature's pause to consume the multi-gigaton banquet laid before it meant that the _Salamander_ was now that much farther from the creature and closer to the storm. The creature seemed to realize this and redoubled its efforts, accelerating even faster to catch its prey.

"It's gaining on us," Whittaker mumbled.

"Pour every joule of power we have into the fusion drives! We have to make it!" James Cutter shouted.

The plume of plasma coming out the fusion drives grew brighter as the warship accelerated right to the limits of its inertial compensators. The faint tug they felt before was now something far more insistent and stronger. Every member of the crew felt themselves being pulled towards the rear of the ship due to their acceleration.

The creature though, was still gaining. It became a race between predator and prey: the _Salamander_ running as fast as it can towards the storm while the creature ran as fast as it can to catch its meal before it slipped away. As the kilometers slipped away between the two, the creature opened its maw in anticipation of its next meal.

"Everyone, grab hold of something and hang on!" James Cutter shouted into the ship's 1MC.

Finally, the race ended. The _Salamander_ passed through the eye of the storm and disappeared in a flash of light. The creature clamped its mouth shut and turned away before it hit the storm. It groaned in frustration and swam away in search of a much slower meal.

* * *

The _Salamander_'s troubles were not over yet though. The moment the ship went through the eye, it lost all control and tumbled through a very strange location. The ship appeared to be in a tunnel of some sort, the walls of the tunnel shone with a multi-colored pattern that hurt the eyes to look at.

"What the hell?!" Janet Cutter shouted as the ship tossed and turned every which way.

"I can't keep control!" PO1 Mor screeched as he desperately tried to maintain some kind of heading.

But it was no use. The _Salamander_ tumbled like a fish flushed down a drain.

All along the tunnel walls, strange images flashed through. Some were scenes of wonder:

A galaxy united under the banner of an organization dedicated to maintaining peace and order in the galaxy, with a fleet among the stars to carry that will out.

A massive space station constructed purely for the purpose of maintaining peace among the five races orbited quietly around a distant planet.

A corp of guardians bearing rings of power dedicated to defending the galaxy even against the blackest night shouted their oaths to the stars with raised fists.

Along with the scenes of wonder though, there mixed in were scenes of horror:

A massive battlestation the size of a small moon fired a green beam at an Earth-like planet, obliterating it in a flash.

Several moon-sized creatures descended with tentacles extended and fed upon a helpless Earth amid the screams of billions.

Another Earth ended under countless nuclear fireballs as an orbiting supercomputer laughed in triumph at the destruction of its creators.

The _Salamander_ could have tumbled forever while gazing upon images such as those if not for a small twist of fate.

That twist of fate came in the form of a blue police box spinning along on its merry way with a warning light blinking on its top. The occupant of the police box, not expecting to find anything in its path, failed to notice the _Salamander_ in its way and accidently rammed into it. Now, you'd think the _Salamander_ would have crushed the police box like a bug against a windshield with its sheer mass but no, that didn't happen. Both objects survived the collision and bounced off on a new trajectory (though later examination of the _Salamander_'s hull would reveal a police box-shaped dent on the starboard bow). The police box quickly corrected its flight path and its occupant was a bit rattled, but otherwise unharmed.

The _Salamander_ wasn't as lucky. The police box's impact knocked it into one of the images on the tunnel wall and as the ship collided with it, it disappeared in a flash of light again.

* * *

In another universe, a white portal opened up and a 3.5 kilometer long ship tumbled out before the portal snapped shut. The ship, robbed of its velocity by its interdimensional trip, drifted silently among the black void of space. For all intents and purposes, it was dead to the universe around it.

* * *

**London, Britannia, Earth**

**March 11, 1945**

**1545 hours**

Rosalie de Hemricourt de Grunne's calm expression belied the inner turmoil that even Geena Preddy, who was sitting beside her, could not suppress. The turmoil came partly from the company and partly from the topic they were to discuss.

Sitting at the head of the table Rosalie and Geena were several of the top Allied commanders of the European theater: General Dwight D. Eisenhower, Air Chief Marshall Hugh Dowding, _Generalfeldmarschall_ (Field Marshal) Friedrich Paulus, _Général de Brigade_ (Brigadier General) Charles de Gaulle, and _Chuujou_ (Lieutenant General) Masaharu Honma. Representing the witches were, of course, Wing Commander Rosalie de Hemricourt de Grunne, Wing Commander Geena Preddy, and Air Marshal Adolfine Galland. Sitting opposite the witches were several members of the Gallian nobility. Among them were Charles d'Orleans, Jean-Baptiste Philippe, Eugene de Talleyrand-Périgord, Henri de Lafayette, and Jacques Clostermann.

Their topic for today: the question of whether or not the 506th JFW's A and B-Units will be combined into a single force.

"I would like to call this meeting to order," the calm voice of Dwight D. Eisenhower, Supreme Commander of the Allied Expeditionary Forces, resounded across the room. He turned to Rosalie and nodded. "Wing Commander de Grunne, you may begin," he spoke.

Rosalie stood up. "Thank you, General Eisenhower. Now if I may begin, I wish to discuss the issue of the 506th Joint Fighter Wing being split into two units and-"

"_Je proteste_," came the simple statement from one Eugene de Talleyrand-Périgord, Prince of Talleyrand. "We have already discussed this topic before and have decided upon it. Why should we continue to debate this and kick the proverbial dead horse?" he reasoned.

Rosalie let no trace of the flare of anger she felt show upon her face as she smiled serenely and answered his question. "While I do realize that we have discussed this topic before, we are not kicking a dead horse, as Talleyrand has so eloquently put it. The horse is, in fact, still very much alive, and kicking back to boot." A round of chuckles echoed around the table. After waiting for them to stop, Rosalie continued. "I would like to present the after-action reports from our last engagement with the Neuroi as Exhibit A," she said as she passed around copies of the report to everyone at the table. "As you can see," Rosalie continued after she's seen that everyone had gotten a copy. "Unit cohesion has suffered greatly since the wing's splitting. Our two units were barely able to perform maneuvers together. Friendly fire became a major issue due to lack of communication. A and B-Units weren't even using the same radio frequencies at the beginning of the engagement: A-Unit was using RAF frequencies, while B-Unit was using USAF frequencies. Based upon these and other incidents, I highly recommend that we immediately combine A and B-Units into a single fighting force."

Many of the members present read through the reports with great interest and much quiet discussion. Several however, namely members of the Gallian aristocracy, simply glanced through it before closing it again. One in particular, Talleyrand, didn't even bother to open it.

"_C'est ridicule!_" cried Jean-Baptiste Philippe, Duke of Burgundy. "Mere commoners cannot be allowed to associate with the nobility!"

"_Je accord,_" said Charles d'Orleans, Prince of Condé, with as much scorn as he could possibly put into his voice. "The commoners must not be allowed to infect their betters with their inferiority," he said haughtily.

Rosalie, all the while, fought to keep her anger under control. Though what she really wanted to do at this moment was to step outside, obtain a cricket bat [3], and then step back inside to knock some sense into those 'noble's heads. But as that would have been a major breach of social conventions, not to mention an act of assault and battery, she suppressed that urge and maintained her calm exterior.

"I'm sorry, exactly who is inferior here?" Sir Hugh Dowding, 1st Baron Dowding, asked sarcastically.

"Why, the Liberion commoners, of course," said Prince Condé matter-of-factly, completely missing the sarcasm in Dowding's question.

Eisenhower raised an eyebrow. "Mr. d'Orleans, I am Liberion. Would you mind telling me how I am inferior to you again?" the Supreme Commander of the Allied Expeditionary Force asked in a warning tone.

Prince Condé started to open his mouth, but was cut off by Talleyrand. "Forgive my fellow noble here," he said quickly before Prince Condé could continue stuffing his foot in his mouth. "While he has a rather…inelegant way of putting things, he is correct in this case. The nobility will not, cannot, allow commoners to intermingle with fellow nobility in the 506th A-Unit. It would be detrimental and disruptive to their existing unit cohesion," Talleyrand said smoothly.

"I disagree," answered Jacques Clostermann, Duke of Alsace, and coincidentally, father of Perrine Clostermann. "My own daughter served in the 501st Joint Fighter Wing, most of whom were not and have never been nobility, and unit cohesion has never once suffered," he said firmly.

"My own niece is a witch serving with so-called 'commoners' as well," Henri de Lafayette, Marquis de Lafayette, added. "I have never heard of any instances of unit cohesion suffering in my niece's unit as a result of her being there or not."

Rosalie cleared her throat to catch everyone's attention. "I would like to add something as well. I myself have served with many witches, noble and not, and never has unit cohesion ever suffered because of it. I believe that disproves your theory, Prince Talleyrand," she said to him with a smile.

Talleyrand gritted his teeth, but kept his anger from showing on his face. "I think my fellow nobles would disagree on you in this one, Wing Commander. I believe we should leave this to a vote to decide this issue. All in favor of combining the 506th JFW's A and B-Units?" he asked.

A quarter of the nobles raided their hands, among them Clostermann and de Lafayette. Rosalie could feel hope fluttering in her heart.

Talleyrand smiled. "All opposed?" he asked.

Rosalie looked with dismay as almost three-quarters of the nobles present raised their hands, crushing that hope.

"Well, now, it looks like you have your answer, Wing Commander de Grunne," Talleyrand said to her with satisfaction. "You will simply have to find a way to improve their performances without combining them. Good luck, commander," he said with a sibilant tone.

Rosalie clenched her hands and uttered not a word.

* * *

**A few minutes later…**

"I'm sorry, Wing Commander de Grunne, that we weren't able to act in favor of your decision," Eisenhower said sadly.

Rosalie shook her head. "It's not your fault, sir. I realize why the Allied command cannot afford to antagonize the nobility. I should be the one to apologize for the behavior of my fellow nobles," Rosalie answered.

Geena reached over and patted Rosalie's head…hard. "What have I told you about apologizing for things that aren't your fault? And you have got to stop associating yourself with those bloody idiots, or else people are going to start questioning your intelligence." Then she noticed Clostermann and de Lafayette looking at her with bemused expressions. "Not that I meant any offence towards you two gentlemen. I was just speaking of nobles in general," Geena added quickly.

Clostermann waved it off. "None taken, _mademoiselle._ I find some of my fellow nobles to be generally lacking in brain matter as well," he said cheerfully.

"To borrow that phrase from Prince Condé, '_Je accord'_," de Lafayette added. "If only those buffoons weren't in a position to do some real damage to the reconstruction effort in Gallia if we tried to go against them, we could just, uh, 'steamroll' over them, as you Liberions say," de Lafayette said to Geena.

"Believe me, I'd love to be the one to drive that steamroller, Mr. Lafayette, but since they are in a position to do that damage, we're going to have to…improvise. Thankfully, me and Rosalie have got Plan B going," Geena added with a wink.

Adolfine Galland, Inspector General of the Witch Corps, threw her head back and laughed. "That's the spirit, you two! And while you're working on your Plan B, I'll get my own Plan B going. I've still got some influence with the nobility in Karlsland, and I know a couple of witches with ties to those families too. Between us, we'll get the Karlsland aristocracy to put pressure on the Gallian ones." She grinned. "Hopefully, they'll see the light when our nobles start breathing down their blue necks!" she added.

Rosalie smiled. "Thank you, Air Marshall Galland. We're in your debt."

Adolfine gave her a thumbs-up. "Think nothing of it! Just make sure to keep fighting against those Neuroi with all you got, okay?"

Rosalie and Geena saluted her. "Yes, ma'am!" they shouted in unison.

The group disbanded shortly afterwards to attend to their various duties. As Rosalie and Geena headed out the exit though, a figure stepped in their way. It was Talleyrand.

"_Madame _de Grunne," he said courteously.

Rosalie stiffened and nodded just as courteously. "_Monsieur _Talleyrand. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Talleyrand smiled as sickly smile. "Oh, nothing. Just wanted to see what you are going to do now that you can't combine A and B-Units like you wanted." He sneered. "Plan B, feh! What Plan B? That's nothing more than an excuse. You don't actually have anything now, do you?"

Rosalie felt Geena stiffen with anger beside her. She couldn't blame her. She felt the same way. "Is there a point to this, Talleyrand?" Rosalie asked coldly. "Because if there isn't, Geena and I really have to be going. So if you'll excuse, me," she finished as she started to walk past him.

Suddenly, Talleyrand's hand snaked out and grabbed her arm. "Excuse me, but I'm not finished yet," he said.

Rosalie just turned to regard him with frigid eyes. "My, my. Assaulting an officer of the Queen and a chevalier of Gallia? That's quite bold of you. I'd say this will earn you a nice, long stay in prison. Perhaps you should think about that and unhand me," she said coolly as Geena glared at Talleyrand with fiery eyes.

Talleyrand smirked. "Oh, are you sure about that? Because I have a way for you to get everything you want."

Rosalie's eyes narrowed. "Oh, really? And just what do I have to do to obtain this concession pf yours?" she asked suspiciously.

Talleyrand leaned in close to her ear, close enough for Rosalie to fell his hot breath on her earlobes and close enough to smell the putrid breath coming forth from his mouth. "Marry me," he whispered.

Geena was shocked for a moment before her hands clenched into fists from her rage/

As for Rosalie, her eyes widened in shock for a moment, before she mastered her emotions and composure returned to her face. "I'm afraid I'll have to decline your offer, _Monsieur _Talleyrand. I have no interest in becoming your bride, now or ever. Now, _let go._" Rosalie growled. Her anger was so great, her familiar ears and tail popped out and waves of raw magic power emanated from her body.

Talleyrand released his grip and took a step back as he recoiled in fear. Then a moment later, he managed to recompose himself and his own face was, in turn, wreathed in anger. "So be it, _Madame_ de Grunne. Know this, as long as you continue with your stubbornness, the nobles of Gallia will never allow your wing to reunite!" he snarled and turned to leave. As he stalked back into the building, he turned around and added, "Mark my words, _Madame_ de Grunne. I will have you someday. Just. You. Wait!" he snarled before turning back for the final time and heading back into the building's depths.

For a moment, Rosalie and Geena just stood there in shock and anger.

"That…bastard. That bloody bastard!" Geena snarled as the feathery ears and tail of her own familiar, the Goshawk, popped out.

Rosalie placed her hand on Geena's own. "Calm yourself, Geena. Let's go," she said quietly.

"But-"

"_Please._"

Geena then noticed how tightly Rosalie's hand was gripping her own and how it was trembling. The ears and tail of a Bichon Frisé, Rosalie's familiar, were still out. The ears were folded back against her head and her tail was curled up under her.

"Let's just go home," Rosalie repeated quietly.

Geena finally nodded and answered her grip with her own. "Yes. Let's," she said.

The two witches walked hand-in-hand out the darkened exit and into the light of the waiting sun.

* * *

**Kudos to anyone who can correctly identify the pop-culture references in the interdimensional tunnel.**

* * *

Addendum:

[1]: "_Sic itur ad astra_": Latin for "Thus, you shall go to the stars". A quote from the _Aeneid_ by Virgil. The line was spoken by Apollo to the young Ascanius (Iulus according to Virgil) who would grow up to be a great king.

[2]: _ikayaki_: Japanese for grilled squid. Typically served topped with soy sauce. A popular foodstuff at Japanese festivals.

[3]: The average cricket bat is no more than 38 inches long by 4.25 inches wide, weighs between 2 lb 7 oz to 3 lb, and is made of light-weight, but strong, willow-wood. A cricket bat, being heavier than the average baseball bat, would more than suffice as a melee weapon, if a bit fragile. In the hands of Rosalie though, with her magically-enhanced strength and her imbuing the bat with magic, it would have made the task of cracking open skulls quite  
easy.


	5. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey again. Welcome to another chapter of Halo: Contact Neuroi. I hope you'll enjoy this one too.**

**And once again, please leave a review. No flames, though. They're a little too hot for me.**

**And thanks to ejhawman for pointing out an error in my story. Thanks a bunch.**

* * *

**Chapter 3- This is (Not) Earth**

**Location: Error. Main power failure. **

**Date: Error. Main power failure.**

**Time: Error. Main power failure.**

Rear Admiral (Upper Half) James G. Cutter: Status Report…Warning! Subject is unconscious and injured. Subject exhibits head injuries and symptoms of possible concussion. Dispatching medical team to the bridge.

* * *

"_**Captain, wake up. Something has happened."**_

_James Cutter's eyes snapped open and he quickly began coughing and hacking to clear his lungs. The taste of lime filled his mouth as he coughed up the slimy bronchial surfactant coating his lungs and swallowed it as per regulations. _

"_**Captain, I said 'wake up'. I need you on the bridge,"**__ the voice repeated with a touch of annoyance._

_He groaned and rubbed his eyes blearily. The voice sounded familiar, but he could not place it at the moment. 'Where am I?' he wondered as he looked around to see where he was. He saw the tubes and other machinery around him in the small chamber he was in. He noticed the transparent window and looked out to see rows and rows of identical-looking chambers, all with slumbering faces visible through their own windows._

'_I'm in a cryo bay,' he realized._

"_**Captain, you didn't suffer any brain damage while you were in there, did you? You have precious few brain cells as it is. I'd hate for you to lose even a single one,"**__ the voice snarked._

_Cutter smiled as he finally realized who the voice belonged to. "Serina, I'm up. Open up the doors already."_

"_**Aye, captain, following your much belated orders,"**__ the AI quipped._

_The doors of the cryo bay slid open and Cutter stepped out clad only in his black, skin-tight cryo-suit. He stumbled a bit before regaining his balance, his legs a bit weak after so long in hibernation._

'_How long was I out?' he thought blearily as he looked around at his surroundings._

_All around him were rows of cryo-chambers standing against the wall. Each chamber had its occupant's name written on it as well as displaying their vital signs. Cutter's gaze drifted up until he saw the emblem on the wall: a soaring phoenix wreathed in the flames it rose out of; the insignia of the UNSC _Spirit of Fire.

'_Of course! How could I forget I'm back on the _Spirit of Fire_? Wait.' He suddenly realized the strangeness of his thought just now. 'I'm 'back' on the _Spirit of Fire_? What does that mean? Why does this feel all wro-'_

"_**Captain! What are you waiting for? I need you on the bridge," Serina said insistently. **_

_Cutter shook his head. He could ponder this problem later. Right now, he needed to focus on the problem at hand. "Serina, what happened? Why did you wake me?" he asked._

"_**My passive sensors have detected three contacts, all unknown, about 1,500,000 kilometers ahead," **__Serina reported._

_Cutter frowned. One million, five-hundred thousand kilometers was at extreme sensor range for the _Spirit._ They were lucky those contacts were detected at all._

"_Understood. Wake the rest of the crew and sound battlestations. I have a feeling we'll be needing them," Cutter ordered._

"_**Aye, captain. Giving everyone the alarm clock treatment starting…now."**_

_The battlestations alarm blared from all speakers as cryo-chambers started opening all over the bay. Cutter, meanwhile, strode purposefully towards the changing room. _

'_It would be a bit undignified for the crew to see their captain walking around in nothing but his cryo-suit, wouldn't it?' he thought wryly._

_His good humor vanished when a particular cryo-chamber caught his eye. He stopped and stared for a moment to stare at the empty chamber and the name on it: FORGE, J._

'_Godammit, Forge. You could never do as you were told, could you? Why couldn't you have come back alive like I'd ordered you to?' Cutter thought bitterly as he recalled how Forge sacrificed himself to save everyone._

_He finally turned away from the empty chamber, whatever good mood he had thoroughly ruined._

_**A few minutes later…**_

_Standing on the bridge with his officers surrounding him, many still scratching from cryo-itch, Cutter looked at his TACPAD for the time. _

'_4 minutes, 11 seconds. Not bad. Pretty good actually, considering they just woke up from cryo-sleep,' he thought before putting the little rectangle of hardened plastic and electronics back into his pocket. "Serina, status update on the three contacts," he said._

"_**No change. Contacts are still holding one-million, fia%fg 4 kilometers out and…wait."**_

_Cutter frowned at the distortion in Serina's voice, a sign of her growing rampancy, but he had to keep her online to maximize ship performance, so for now he ignored it. "What is it, Serina?"_

"_**Contacts have disappeared from sensors and…shit! Contacts have reappeared just 200,000 kilometers off the bow!"**_

_Cutter face turned grim, as did the rest of the bridge crew. Only one power they knew were capable of performing such precise slipspace jumps. Now they just waited for the hammer to drop._

"_**Scanning…confirmed."**__ Even Serina sounded grim as she delivered the news. __**"Contacts are three Covenant warships of the class designated **_**CCS**_**-class battlecruiser and they're closing in."**_

_The mood on the bridge turned downright frigid. A single _CCS_-class battlecruiser would have been a nearly impossible fight for the _Spirit_, and that was if they were running at full capacity…which they weren't, not after getting a portside backrub from a _CPV_-class heavy destroyer that stripped off most of the armor there as well as disabling several of the point-defense weaponry, deck guns, and ATAF missile turrets there too. The broadside exchange afterwards didn't help things. With _three_ to face, it was basically David versus the Goliath triplets…and David's slingshot was broken._

_Cutter took a deep breath and brought up the ship's 1MC. "Men, women, we are about to go to battle against an overwhelming force of Covenant ships. Our chances of survival are slim, but we will do our damn best to bring down at least one of our enemy and show them that humanity will not go down without a fight! And in doing so, it will be at least one ship that the UNSC will not have to face some other day. It's been an honor serving with you all. Godspeed. Cutter out." After turning off the 1MC, Cutter turned to his bridge crew. "Prep all remaining weapons," he ordered. "Target the lead ship and-"_

_Cutter was cut off by Serina. __**"Captain, I'm getting a transmission from the lead Covenant ship. Looks like they want to talk to us for a change."**_

_The tension in the bridge was replaced by shock and suspicion. Covenant ships have never opened communications with UNSC ships save to mock them. Why would they change their _modus operandi_ now?_

"_**Captain? Do you want to take this call?"**__ Serina asked._

_Cutter thought as he pondered this mystery. 'Could they be trying to gather intel on us? Or are they distracting us so they can call for reinforcements? No, that doesn't make sense. They can see the poor state of our ship. There's no need for three battlecruisers to call in reinforcements to take out one half-crippled converted colony ship. So intel then? But if they wanted intel, they'd be boarding us right now instead of just coming at us. So then what?' He had to make a decision about this now._

"_**Captain?"**_

_Finally, Cutter decided. "Accept their transmission. Let's see what they want."_

"_**Affirmative. Bringing transmission up on the main viewscreen now."**_

_A blinking square on the viewscreen enlarged itself into a view of whoever it was trying to contact them. Cutter's eyes narrowed as he looked at the split-jawed alien on the other end of the transmission. It was one of the Covenant races the UNSC designated "Elites" due to their apparent status and fighting ability. The tall alien was dressed in ornate silver armor with some kind of fur cloak worn over one shoulder._

"_**This is the Fleet of Purposeful Wandering to the unidentified human ship. Your ship appears to be heavily damaged. Do you need a tow to the nearest shipyard?"**__ the Elite asked._

_Of all the things Cutter expected the Elite to say, the last thing he expected was for it to offer to tow his ship to the nearest base!_

_The rest of the bridge was equally stunned._

"_The hell?! What are you trying to pull?!" one of the bridge officers shouted._

_The Elite on the screen blinked in confusion. More confused muttering could be heard in the background. __**"I don't think I'm trying to 'pull' anything. I was merely asking if you needed a tow,"**__ it said._

_At this, Cutter lost his temper. "Listen here, you. Your Covenant came to Harvest, attacked without warning, and took no prisoners. Since then, you've been fighting the exact same way. What makes you think after all that, you can say something like that out of the black and expect us to answer?!"_

_The Elite looked both guilty and confused at Cutter's words. Then it muttered, __**"A **_**Phoenix**_**-class colony ship. Could it be?" **__and understanding dawned on its face. __**"Shipmaster, your ship would not happen to be the **_**Spirit of Fire**_**, would it?"**_

_If Cutter thought he couldn't be more shocked, this proved him wrong. "How the hell do you know the name of my ship?" he asked the Elite incredulously._

_The Elite bared his fangs in what Cutter assumed was a grin. __**"Better to ask who **_**doesn't **_**know the UNSC **_**Spirit of Fire**_**, Shipmaster Cutter. Every UNSC and ISA ship had been given the description and name of your vessel in case we ever happened to run across you. And it's just so happens that my ship was the one to find you after all these years."**_

'_After all these years.' Those words echoed through Cutter's mind as he turned to Serina. "Serina, exactly what is the date right now?" he asked with a slight quiver in his voice._

"_**By my count, today is December 1, 2569, Captain,"**__ the AI answered calmly._

_Cutter suddenly felt an urge to sit down. '2569. 38 years since we escaped that strange artificial world. What the hell happened in all that time?' he wondered. Then he realized that there was a source of information right in front of him, figuratively and literally considering that the three _CCS_-class battlecruisers were now clearly visible from the bridge's bow window. He turned once more to the Elite on the viewscreen. "I don't expect you to tell me anything, but what happened in the years we were gone? And what's the state of the war?" he asked the Elite. The bridge crew were shocked that he was asking the Elite for that info, but they had faith in their commander that he was doing the right thing, so they kept silent._

_The Elite nodded. __**"To begin, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Artos 'Talass. I am Shipmaster of the ISA**_** Dance of Eternity**_** and Fleetmaster of the **_**Fleet of Purposeful Wandering, **_**of which the**_** Dance of Eternity **_**serves as flagship.**_**"**

_Cutter looked to his officers, who shrugged in turn. He then sighed and turned back to 'Talass. "I can't say I'm pleased to meet you Shipmaster…Talass, was it?" When 'Talass nodded and said __**"Close enough,"**__ Cutter continued. "But I suppose it would be impolite to not introduce myself as well. I am James Gregory Cutter, Captain of the UNSC _Spirit of Fire_, part of Battlegroup D under Third Fleet commanded by Admiral Cole. Now that we've introduced ourselves, why don't you tell me something? What's the state of the war between the UNSC and your Covenant?"_

'_Talass took a moment before answering. __**"The war between our peoples is over. It has been over for 22 years."**__ Cutter started to open his mouth, but 'Talass held up a two-fingered, two-thumbed hand for silence. __**"Before you ask, the UNSC was victorious. By a slim margin, yes, but victorious nonetheless." **_

_A few bridge officers began to cheer before Cutter silenced them with a look. "And I suppose we are supposed to just take your word on this?" Cutter asked sarcastically._

'_Talass shrugged. __**"I suppose you wouldn't, not from me or any other Sangheili at least."**_

'_So that's what the Elites call themselves,' Cutter filed away as he nodded in response._

"_**Very well, then. Would you believe the war is over if a UNSC ship told you that instead?"**__ 'Talass asked._

_Cutter was stunned for the third time in less than 30 minutes. "I suppose I would," Cutter said as he started to wonder if maybe the Elite was telling the truth._

'_Talass nodded. __**"Very well, then."**__ 'Talass turned to the side and said something in its own harsh, guttural language to someone offscreen. A reply came in the form of a high-pitched yipping, barking language that Cutter recognized as being that of the covenant race designated "Grunt" by the UNSC. After a few more exchanges, 'Talass turned back to the screen. __**"It is done. My communications officer has sent a slipspace communications packet to the nearest UNSC world informing them that you've been found and where to find you. It will take some time for them to respond though, and since you will likely not allow us to tow you, we have a long wait ahead of us before a UNSC ship gets here." **__'Talass sat back against his command chair. __**"And since we do, perhaps you can tell us the story of what happened after Arcadia?" **_

_Cutter stiffened both from the memories of what happened on Arcadia and from the fact that the Elite wanted information._

_Seeing Cutter's discomfort,__'Talass quickly added, __**"You are free to leave out any portions you feel are classified or you simply do not wish to tell. It is just that our records only go up to the Prophet of Regret saying he had discovered something important and he or the previous Arbiter would report back later. When he finally did report back, he said he was mistaken and would not speak any more of it. Since then, the question of what really happened during that time and what happened to Ripa 'Moramee as well. Not that anyone actually cared about that **_**korta [1] **_**of a Sangheili who thought he was a Jiralhanae, but because we are curious as to what manner of fate befell him. So."**__ 'Talass leaned forward slightly. __**"How did 'Moramee die, if he did die?"**_

_Cutter closed his eyes and thought about everything that'd happened after leaving Arcadia and their arrival at that strange world infested by those horrific creatures and that fleet of ancient ships piercing the clouds like metallic pillars and its final destruction when they overloaded that artificial sun. He then opened his eyes and looked at the Elite still waiting for his answer. Several other Elites had gathered to hear the story as well as some Grunts and some of the bird-like aliens the UNSC had designated "Jackals" had gathered as well._

"_Alright then, I'll tell you," Cutter answered. He sat down on a chair. "What happened was-"_

_Suddenly, he felt that strange feeling that this had happened before again, only this time it was much stronger. So strong, that he had to hold his head due to the pain. In the back of his mind, he remembered that feeling was called "déjà vu", but his conscious mind was too busy trying to process the pain._

"…_tain!"_

'_Who is that? Why does that voice sound so familiar? Wait, Angelina?' Cutter thought. _

"…_amps!"_

'_Janet? But who's Janet? Wait, now I remember. She's my granddaughter.'_

"…_ipper! Pull yourself…ether already!"_

'_Andrew? Wait, where are they? Where are their voices coming from?' _

_The scene around him suddenly faded to black and before him, two doors appeared. _

_One was rectangular and metallic and looked exactly like the entrance to the _Salamander_'s CIC. It even had the red star above it which denoted told approaching crewmen that this was indeed the bridge if they didn't catch the word "BRIDGE" underneath the star. _

_The other was also rectangular and metallic, but had a slightly worn look to it. The sign above said "CRYO BAY". Cutter recognized it as the entrance to the _Spirit of Fire_'s cryo bay._

'_Hell, no! Who do you think I am?' he thought as he placed his hand on the console next to the "BRIDGE" door._

_The door slid open and Cutter was bathed in white light._

* * *

Cutter's eyes snapped open for what he felt like the second time. He quickly noticed two things. The first thing was that his head hurt, a lot. Specifically, his forehead. The second was that someone was shining a bright light into his eyes which made them hurt as well. Not as much as his head, but still plenty enough.

"Glad ta see you're back in the world of the living, aren't ya?" a gruff voice asked with a faint tinge of a Scottish accent.

Cutter held up a hand to block the light from the halogen penlight being shone into his eyes. "Yes, I'm awake. So will you get that damn light out of my eyes already, MacTaggart?" Cutter said as he used his other hand to push the penlight aside, revealing the scowling face of Senior Chief Hospital Corpsman Bruce MacTaggart, the highest ranking corpsman on the _Salamander_.

"Bagh! He's alright. Just spray some biofoam on that cut a' yours on ya forehead and you'll be right as rain!" Which he proceeded to do exactly that.

While MacTaggart was applying the biofoam, a red-headed, freckled face popped into view.

"Hey, gramps, you feeling okay now?" Janet Cutter asked with concern.

James Cutter ignored the stinging sensation of the biofoam being applied to the wound on his forehead and answered, "Yes, I'm fine." Then he noticed that Janet's face was bathed in the dull red glow of emergency lighting. "What's the ship's status?" he called out as MacTaggart stepped back and Cutter brought his chair back up into an upright position.

De Medici turned around and Cutter noticed that she had a faint bruise around her left eye. "Well, for starters, the main power is out, as I'm sure you've noticed. I've got Senior Engineman Lane working on bringing the reactors back online. Other than that, we can't determine the extent of the ship's damage until main power is restored," she reported crisply.

James Cutter nodded in approval at her taking command while he was out. "What happened? How did I get knocked out?" Cutter asked while unconsciously feeling the hardened biofoam on his forehead. The last thing he remembered was the _Salamander_ entering that tunnel, those strange images, then something hitting the ship and something flying at his face before everything went black.

There was an embarrassed cough and everyone turned to look at Petty Officer Czherny, who was conspicuously missing the thick pair of military-issue glasses he usually wore. He snapped to attention and saluted. "Sir, it was my fault! I'd failed to properly secure my glasses and when whatever it was hit us, my glasses flew off and smacked into your head and then it bounced off your head into Lieutenant Commander de Medici's face, so please forgive me!" He'd said this in a one breathless explanation and sounded like he was on the verge of tears.

Cutter raised a hand. "It's okay, no one was hurt badly this time. Just make sure you secure your glasses _properly_ next time," he added sternly.

Petty Officer Czherny looked relieved, very relieved. "Thank you, sir!" he shouted.

Cutter nodded and said, "Good. Now retrieve your glasses and stand by at your station until the main power comes back online."

Czherny stiffened and flushed red in the face. "Uh actually, sir. I can't find them. Does anybody see where it went?"

"Ya mean these?" MacTaggart asked sarcastically as he held up a pair of the thick, goggle-like glasses issued as standard equipment to all personnel with vision problems. Despite the abuse it suffered, the lenses and frame appeared to be undamaged and the only thing wrong with it was the undone strap MacTaggart held it by. The Senior Chief Corpsman walked over and shoved it into Czherny's hands. "Here, ya ninny. Try not ta lose it this time!" he said gruffly before storming out the bridge, muttering something about green petty officers.

"Uh, thanks?" Czherny said with a confused look to thin air as he put his glasses back on and made doubly sure that the strap as securely tightened.

Cutter breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, now that that's over with, we just have to wait for Lane to restore main power. Wonder how long that will take?"

Just as Cutter finished his sentence, the red lights flickered back into white and the various consoles came back online. The holotank at the center of the bridge came back online as well.

"**Finally!"** Natsu shouted joyfully as he reappeared in a burst of holographic flames above the holotank. **"I thought I'd be stuck in my core forever waiting for someone to get the power on!"**

Cutter nodded at the strange AI he was stuck with. "It's good to see you too, Natsu. Can you give us a status report on the ship's condition?" he asked.

"**Uh, hold on."** Natsu performed a thorough systems check while bringing up a complete holographic representation of the _Salamander_ next to him. All this took a mere fraction of a second for the advanced (whatever else he may have seemed) AI. **"Systems check complete. Do you want me to start with the most serious problems or the least, cap'n?"** the AI asked.

"Start with the most serious and move down."

"**Well first of all, Reactor One's totally fried. According to Chief Engineman Lane's report, much of its casing and most of its internal components is melted from when that space squid tried to eat it. Then that final thing when you ordered for more power to the engines finally did it in. It was a miracle that it lasted that long in the first place. Lane says that it looks like we'll need to replace it completely at the nearest yard."**

Cutter's expression was grim. The _Salamander _needed at least two reactors online to operate at full capacity. With one of their three reactors damaged beyond repair, they now had no backup; no safety line at all in terms of power consumption. If another reactor went down, they would be forced to operate at 50% capability and if yet another reactor went the same way, they'd be fighting with a crippled and blind ship. "Continue," Cutter said grimly.

"**Also, speaking of the reactors, the fusion drives are down too. The port drives have taken some damage from that space squid's tentacles and will need some repairs. The starboard drives are down too. It looks like the effort of running at maximum power by itself caused the drives to burn out. We'll need to get to a yard to repair them."**

Cutter winced internally, but didn't regret his decision to run the drives at maximum power. If they hadn't, that huge creature might have gotten them before they'd reached that storm.

"**Next, several of the Bastion laser clusters are down. Again, that stupid space squid smashed them when it looked like they were hurting it. Also, a few of the Fortresses and one of the Onagers** **aren't responding. I think they're down too, but we'll have to send EVA techs to confirm the damage because a bunch of my external video cameras are out too. The rest of the weapons and shields look like they're fine, but damn it! I hate squid!" **Natsu shouted angrily as he began stomping around like child throwing a tantrum.

Then, a horrible realization came to Cutter. "Natsu, where are we, by the way? How far are we from the nearest UNSC world" he asked.

Natsu ceased his little tantrum. **"Where? Hold on, scanning local star systems…comparing with existing astrogation charts…found it! I'm 72.6% certain we're in the Sol system! Specifically, we appear to be in the space between Earth and Mars, though we're closer to Earth than to Mars."**

Cheers broke out in the bridge as they heard the news that they'd actually arrived at their destination despite all that'd happened to them.

Even Cutter cracked a smile, though the relatively low percentage given by Natsu didn't escape his notice. "Why are you only 72.6% sure we're in the Sol system?"

Natsu scratched his virtual head. **"I'm not really sure. Some of the nearby star systems seemed to be in different positions compared to what I have on the astrogation charts, but that could be due to data corruption."**

Cutter nodded. It was a logicalguess, and made far more sense than the alternative: that the stars had moved.

'Now that would be preposterous,' Cutter thought. "How are communications? Can we still transmit?" he asked out loud.

"**Oh, the comms are a-okay! That stupid** **space squid didn't touch an antennae on the comms!"** Natsu said smugly.

Cutter breathed a sigh of relief. "Excellent." He turned to Czherny. "I guess this is your time to redeem yourself Petty Officer Czherny. Contact EARTHCOM and tell them to send a tug to tow us to the nearest shipyard for repairs. I have a feeling we're going to be in the yards for a long, long while."

Czherny nodded enthusiastically at being offered a second chance and at the thought of getting a long shore leave. "Aye, sir!" He then dialed the ship's radio frequency to FLEETCOM 7, the frequency used by the UNSC Navy. "This is UNSC _Salamander_ to Earth Command. We have sustained severe damage and are requesting a tow to the nearest available shipyard, over." He closed the transmission and waited for EARTHCOM's response.

And waited.

And waited some more.

And waited still.

"Hey, why isn't anyone answering?" Janet Cutter asked nervously.

An icy feeling of foreboding crept up James Cutter's spine. "Petty Officer Czherny, repeat that transmission," he ordered.

"Aye, sir," Czherny answered nervously. He pressed the transmit button again. "I repeat, this is UNSC _Salamander_ to Earth Command. We have sustained severe damage and are unable to travel under our own power. Requesting a tow to the nearest shipyard for immediate repairs, over." He let go of the transmit button again and again he waited for EARTHCOM to respond.

He was in for a long wait.

Yet the signal did not go unheard.

* * *

**506****th**** JFW A-Unit Base, Sedan, Gallia, Earth**

**March 11, 1945**

**1600 hours**

Heinrike and Jennifer both suddenly stood up and stiffened as their magic antennae activated and their familiars popped out, both of their own accord.

The other witches noticed their odd behavior.

"Jen-chan, Major Wittgenstein, what's wrong?" Kunika asked them.

"I'm…not sure," Jennifer answered hesitantly.

Heinrike concentrated hard on what was disturbing their magic antennae. "I think…it sounds like…someone is trying to say something," she finally said.

"Say something?" Kunika asked. "Like what?"

Jennifer tuned her magic radar to try and get a lock on the signal. "I can't tell. The message is set to a weird frequency and it's kind of faint, like it's being broadcast from pretty far away. Also, there's this weird distortion that's messing with the signal. It's making it hard to hear," she complained.

"_Nein._ That's not it," Heinrike said distractedly as she adjusted her own magic radar as well. "It's more like the distortion is part of the signal. Hold on." She concentrated as she poured more magic into her antennae and suddenly, "I can hear them!" she shouted triumphantly.

"What are they saying?" Adriana asked due to no small amount of curiosity.

Heinrike didn't say anything for a moment, then, "I repeat, this is UNSC _Salamander_ to Earth Command. We have sustained severe damage and are unable to travel under our own power. Requesting a tow to the nearest available shipyard for immediate repairs, over," she repeated word for word.

The witches were mystified by this message.

"UNSC _Salamander_," Marian repeated to herself. "It sounds like the name of a ship, but I've never heard of the prefix 'UNSC' before."

"And what's 'Earth Command'?" Isaac asked. "I don't think we had an Earth Command, unless the higher-ups did so without telling us."

"No, we definitely don't have an 'Earth Command'," Adriana answered. "I really don't know what whoever this UNSC _Salamander_ is talking about."

"It sounds like an SOS. Maybe we should respond?" Kunika asked.

"I'd love to know how you plan on accomplishing that," Marian said sarcastically.

None of the girls knew how to answer that.

* * *

**UNSC **_**Salamander**_** CIC**

**Date: Unknown.**

**Time: Unknown. **

Silence filled the bridge as the response that was supposed to come never came.

"What…the hell?" Janet asked quietly.

Cutter's grip on his seat tightened. "Try the other frequencies. Maybe their comms are offline." That excuse sounded pathetic, even to his own ears.

Regardless, Czherny obeyed and switched to a different channel. "This is UNSC _Salamander_ to Earth Orbital Defense Network, respond, over."

Silence.

Czherny switched to yet another channel. "This is UNSC _Salamander_ to Home Fleet, please respond, over."

Silence.

"Any UNSC asset in orbit, respond, over."

Silence.

"Mombasa Tether Station, respond, over."

Silence.

"Lunar Traffic Control, respond, over."

Silence.

With each silence, the good cheer that had dominated the bridge fell deeper into shock, fear, and worry.

"Shut it off," Cutter ordered.

"But-"

"Shut down comms, now," he ordered firmly, cutting off Czherny's protest.

"A-Aye, sir," Czherny answered nervously as he cut off the transmission.

To say the mood in the bridge was now a bit chilly was like saying the ocean was a bit wet.

Cutter sat there with his head down for a while before his gaze snapped back up. "Natsu, what's the status of the Clarion drones and the STARS pods?" he asked.

A fraction of a second passed before Natsu answered. **"They all report they're ready and operational."**

"Launch a few Clarions and a STARS pod into Earth's orbit and have them scan everything, orbitals and planet surface, and have them relay what they find back to us," he ordered.

"**Aye, cap'n! Right on it!"** Natsu answered as he got to work.

He then turned to his granddaughter and Whittaker. "Cutter, Whittaker, get your ships ready to launch. Have them take up flanking positions around us so they can cover us with their point-defense networks in case of enemy attack."

They both saluted. "Aye, captain!" they shouted before heading out the bridge on the way to their ships.

Cutter brought up Lane's COM on his console. Moments later, a brown-skinned, dark-haired woman appeared on the display.

"**What's up, captain? You need something?"** she asked bluntly, as if she were being hassled. Someone shouted something indistinct in the background and Chief Engineman Lavinia Lane turned and shouted, **"No, Osen! Not like that! Gunther, show the man what to do before he blows us all to Kingdom Come!"** She then turned back to the screen. **"Make it snappy, captain, I'm busy minding these rookies here."**

"I need you and your team to get at least the starboard fusion drives back online in the next ten minutes."

Lane's jaw dropped open in shock. **"Ten minutes?! You're kidding me! I need that much and a little more just to see what's wrong with them in the first place!"**

"Then how long do you think you can get them online in?" Cuter asked.

Lane thought for a moment before holding up three fingers. **"Give me thirty minutes and I'll have the starboard engines up and running as long as you don't care how efficient they are."**

"That's fine. As long as they're operational."

Lane grinned a cocky grin. **"It's a deal then!"** She then turned to the side. **"Hey, Osen! Stop trying to hit on Gunther and get back to work, or I'll have your sorry hide for-"** the transmission cut off before Cutter could hear the rest of that colorful hide-tanning.

"**Drones and sats are all deployed! Estimated time until arrival to Earth: 19 minutes!"** Natsu reported.

"Excellent, some good news for a change." Cutter looked at his TACPAD for the time. "De Medici, tell all senior officers and senior ISA officers to convene in the conference room in three hours for a briefing. I have a feeling they'll be wanting answers soon," he said with a grimace.

De Medici nodded and began contacting the officers in question.

All this and more went on in the bridge as outside on the hull, two hatches opened up. Out through one, several sleek-looking drones leapt out and out through the other, a boxy-looking missile shot out. All of them angled themselves towards Earth and headed there as fast as their fusion drives could carry them.

* * *

**Somewhere between Orussia and Romagna**

**March 11, 1945**

**1602 hours**

Eila stared in shock as Sanya relayed the strange series of messages to her through her glowing magic antennae.

"Sanya, say that again? Did you say 'UNSC'?" Eila asked nervously.

The silver-haired night witch next to her nodded. "Yes. The man is asking for organizations and things I've never heard of before to respond and he identifies himself as part of something called a 'UNSC Salamander'. He sounds a little scared and…wait." The glow from Sanya's magic antennae vanished and she withdrew them and her familiar ears and tail. "They've stopped transmitting."

Eila barely noticed Sanya's last words. She never expected her prediction to come true so soon. In fact, she'd never expected it to come true at all, despite how the card in her pocket seemed to keep reminding her by slipping out every so often. Eila has made plenty of predictions before, and not all of them had come true. Actually, most of them haven't, which was why she expected the prediction to fizzle out. Yet despite the strangeness of her prediction a week ago, it appeared that her cards were indeed telling the truth.

"Eila?" Sanya asked with a worried expression on her face.

Eila snapped out of her trance at the sound of Sanya's voice. "Uh, what?" Eila asked.

Sanya stared into Eila's eyes for a few seconds before answering. "Is it about that fortune from last week?" she asked.

Eila nodded.

"So what does it mean?" Sanya asked.

Eila's mind raced around in circles as she tried to think of an answer, but nothing came to mind.

* * *

**UNSC **_**Salamander**_** CIC**

**Date: Unknown**

**Time: Synchronizing with local time…synchronized. Time set at 1635 hours GMT.**

"Captain, we finally have the casualty reports since we got here," de Medici reported.

Cutter winced. Engineering had finally gotten the starboard fusion drives online a few minutes ago; albeit at 91% efficiency, which meant that the ship was only capable of accelerating and decelerating at about 41% of what it should have been capable of. That being said, it was still better than 0. Right now, they were heading for the far side of Earth's moon, Luna. It was determined to be the ideal location to hide out due to a variety of factors; among which was its proximity to Earth, the fact that that side never faced Earth, and the abundance of Helium-3 on the Moon (which the _Salamander_ needed for fuel).

Cutter had thought things were finally going smoothly for the first time so far, then this happened. "How many did we lose?" Cutter asked quietly.

"We've had a total of 40 casualties since we arrived here. Most of them were incurred when that object, whatever it was, slammed into us. Thankfully, only one was a fatality. We're lucky that we only had just that one," de Medici reported calmly.

Cutter frowned, though he knew de Medici was right. In the grand scheme of things, one person out of 24,000 personnel was a miniscule fraction, yet Cutter couldn't help but think of that person as one more that wouldn't be going home. He knew that attitude was hypocritical since he's sent far more than that to their deaths when he was in command of the _Spirit of Fire_, but he couldn't help feeling that way.

"What happened?" he asked.

"The deceased's name was Lieutenant Polonsky, Jeremy. When that thing, whatever it was, slammed into us in that tunnel, a supply crate–you know, one of those giant crates that measured 4x4x4 meters and weighed about 100 pounds _empty_–broke loose of its restraints and flew into Lieutenant Polonsky. The crate had been carrying 5 tons of," she grimaced. "Medical supplies."

Cutter grimaced as well. That was arguably the most ironic death he'd ever heard of.

"As for the other casualties, the injuries range from a Lieutenant who'd broken his toe on the ceiling to a supply clerk who had her right arm crushed by a falling Mgalekgolo. Many of them will need regen, but they'll be fine."

Cutter sighed in relief. "Thank you."

De Medici nodded and walked away to attend to other duties.

Leaving Cutter to wonder just how many more will be as lucky as those 39 people, and how many more will die before this is over.

* * *

**506****th**** JFW A-Unit Base, Sedan, Gallia**

**March 11, 1945**

**1702 hours**

"It's been confirmed. All night witches across Europe we could reach reported they've received this strange radio signal. It's likely there's more, but we'll have to wait for them to report in," Rosalie reported to everyone.

The assembled witches of the 506th nodded in understanding, which included both A-Unit and B-Unit. The Liberion witches were still here under the double pretenses that they needed time to pack their belongings and that it was too late in the evening to do anything worthwhile. It wouldn't last long, but those ruses bought precious time to think up of an alternative plan.

"Have any radio stations reported getting this signal too?" Jennifer asked with a raised hand.

"Radio stations reported they received a strange signal, but it was mostly static and the rest was too distorted to make out," Geena reported. "It seems only night witches can resolve the distortions to get anything useful out of the signal."

"Does Allied Command have any idea what we should do about this strange signal?" Heinrike asked.

Rosalie shook her head. "Unfortunately, Allied Command is as confused as everyone else by the strange transmissions. Their current orders are for everyone to stand by regarding the transmissions until they can figure out what to do."

"So in other words, they want us to twiddle our thumbs while they brainstorm, is that it?" Marian asked in a biting tone.

"Essentially," Rosalie responded.

Adriana leaned back with a sigh. "That's sucks. You know, why don't we go out and investigate ourselves? It will be a lot better than for us to sit here and wait for some old fogeys to tell us what to do."

"And exactly where do you want us to go to find this 'UNSC _Salamander_', Visconti?" Marian asked sarcastically, making Adriana grimace in embarrassment. "Not to mention it's almost nightfall. Unless you want us to get ambushed by night-flying Neuroi, I suggest you hold off on your little investigation until morning."

Heinrike looked at Jennifer. "Speaking of which. DeBlanc, get yourself ready for night patrol,_ schnell!_" she ordered.

Jennifer sighed. Ever since she's been here, she and Heinrike have been going on night patrols together. During that time, Jennifer has discovered that Heinrike lacked a sense of humor and did not tolerate idle conversation on patrols, so the nights for her have been pretty boring. "Yeah, yeah, I'm going, Princess," she responded, accidently using Heinrike's most popular nickname.

The other members of the 506th winced as a vein bulged on Heinrike's temple at the mention of her most-hated nickname. "Captain DeBlanc, you will refer to me as either Major Wittgenstein or Major. You will cease your referring to me by anything else, nicknames especially. _Verstanden?_" She ground out that last bit in Karslandan.

Jennifer gulped. "Crystal clear," she answered quickly.

"_Gut._ Now march to the hangar, _schnell!_ We have a night patrol to prepare for, so get moving!" she shouted like a drill sergeant.

Jennifer's response was automatic, borne from her weeks of training under the particularly harsh regimens of the USMC. "Ma'am, yes ma'am!" she shouted as she stood up with a salute. She immediately turned around and marched out the door leading to the striker hangar, with Heinrike following closely behind singing a Karlslandan marching song and leaving the other members of the 506th behind sweating at their leaving.

Kunika was the first to ask in the silence that followed. "So what about us? Did you get them to merge our units together?" she asked Rosalie.

Her grimace told the Fusoan girl everything there was to know. "I'm sorry, Ms. Kunika. I've tried to do everything I could, but…" she sighed. "We'll need to go to Plan B after all."

Kunika nodded sadly. "So what's Plan B?" she asked.

"Is it to blow those old bastards up?" Adriana suggested. "I could say it was an accident with some ordinance."

"I could freeze them and say it was an accident," Carla suggested. "Though I'd need a lot of concentrated ether and a delivery system to do it."

"I could lie in wait and ambush them," Isaac suggested. "With my sniper rifle and a good vantage point, they'd never see me coming."

Rosalie winced at their suggestion. "Thank you, but all of those would cause more problems than they'd solve."

"So what's Plan B?" Kunika asked.

Neither Rosalie nor Geena responded.

"Don't tell me you two have nothing," Adriana groaned.

"It's not nothing…not quite," Geena said hesitantly.

"Basically, our plan was to find a remote location somewhere and train together in secret so that we can improve our teamwork without the nobles calling a foul," Rosalie explained.

Everybody digested that plan.

"What remote location? We're in the middle of Europe, for Pete's sakes! It's not like there's convenient deserted island for us to hide in," Marian said.

"And therein lies the flaw," Rosalie said tiredly. "We only have the basic outline ready. We don't have anything in detail."

Everyone sighed. Disappointment and despair filled the room like a dark shadow.

Suddenly, Geena interrupted the gloom. "Okay, I think we need to all relax. We've had a busy day and we're all tired."

The witches nodded. They've had to fight off two flights of Neuroi while their commanders were away, both made up of several of the Laros-Kai-class [2]. To say it was tiring was a major understatement.

"So why don't we all go grab some dinner and get some winks in? I'm sure the problem will look much less like the Gordian knot in the morning," Geena said.

The assembled witches shouted their agreement and stormed off to the dining hall for something to fill their empty bellies.

Geena, meanwhile, looked at Rosalie who was just sitting there on the sofa, staring at the table. "Do you really think it will be better in the morning?" Rosalie asked quietly.

Geena's response was to bend down and give Rosalie a kiss on her cheek, startling the blond witch out of her reverie. "Sure I am, love. Trust me on this, everything looks better in the morning. Even Neuroi look more cheerful in the morning," Geena said cheerfully.

A smile slowly crept up on Rosalie's face as she stood up and returned the kiss, this time on the lips. "Heh. I guess so, love. You always did know how to cheer me up, Geena," Rosalie said with some happiness finally in her voice.

Geena grinned. "Maybe tonight, I can cheer you up in certain _other_ ways too," she said sulkily.

Her suggestion made Rosalie break out in giggles. "Oh, you're so naughty!" she managed to get out, still giggling all the while (though it was near-incomprehensible). It was only after she stopped giggled, which took a minute, that her speech returned to being something like comprehensibility. "Ha, ha, I'd love to, but unfortunately, that meeting gave me even more paperwork to do before I can have any time to relax," she said apologetically.

"No problem. I'll help out," Geena answered casually.

"Uh, but-"

"No buts. My incentive for finishing that pile of papers is the same as yours, so just let me help. Now." Geena opened the door leading to the dining hall. "Shall we adjourn for dinner first, love?"

Rosalie smiled brightly. "That's would definitely be appreciated, Geena."

* * *

**Location: behind Luna**

**UNSC **_**Salamander**_** Conference Room**

**Date: Unknown**

**1902 hours**

To say the mood in the conference room was gloomy was akin to saying the Sun was a bit dry.

Sitting around the massive holotank that took up the room were the senior UNSC officers, including James Cutter, Angelina de Medici, Avery Johnson, Bruce MacTaggart, Lavinia Lane, and a host of others. Janet Cutter and Andrew Whittaker were also attending using holographic representations of themselves in place of their actual bodies. They were indistinguishable from their real bodies save that the holographic avatars had a golden glow to them.

Several of the top civilian scientists also sat around the holotank, serving as scientific advisors. Among them are Dr. Mikhail Voroshilov, 112 Guileless Curiosity, and his Sentinels; and Dr. Hal Emmerich and his team.

Sitting with them as well were top ISA officers leading the ISA forces assigned to the _Salamander_:

Fieldmaster Faruss 'Talkan led the Sanghelios contingent, which consisted of a force of 3,000 Sangheili. He was an elderly member of his race, at some 170 Earth years old, but his mind was still as sharp as it had been when he was in his prime. Sitting next to him was Iril 'Yasum, who served as Special Operations Commander to 'Talkan, led the 300 Special Operations Sangheili troopers among the 3,000, and was the highest ranking female Sangheili on board. Both sat peacefully, waiting for the captain to begin.

Fieldmistress Ras Var led the 1,000 strong Eayn contingent. She was an odd-looking Ruuhtan Kig-Yar, with a black patch over one eye that gave her a piratical look. The night-black clothes she habitually wore in favor of a uniform only served to further enhance that image. Though young-looking compared to other Kig-Yar, she was a master tactician and had a great reputation among the ISA for ingenuity and unorthodox approaches to combat.

Leading the 1,000 Unggoy as part of the Balaho contingent was General Yeppey Jibok. The Unggoy was a particularly large member of his species at 5' 10" and had the muscles to match. He had a reputation for stubbornness and ferocity and the Unggoy under his command were widely noted to be excellent NCOs.

Taking up the positions of three seats and sitting on a cushioned litter surrounded by several male servants and female Royal Guards was a Yanme'e Queen named Irissi'i Sssrezz-Mruuk chii Brezcuz chii Palamok (her full name had several pheromone components and a few syllables in ultrasound, so was unpronounceable in its entirety by humans and every other ex-Covenant race), the leader and mother to the 1,000 Yanme'e onboard, forming the Palamok contigent. The Yanme'e Queen, though massive, was young for her kind and had an extremely friendly personality at odds with her appearance (to humans, Sangheili, Kig-Yar, and Unggoy anyway), and was thus well-liked by many of the personnel.

Though the 500 Mgalekegolo and one Sbaolekgolo strong (if you counted individual Lekgolo, the number came to over 160,000 Lekgolo) Te contingent didn't have a leader, as Lekgolo have no concept of rank and its importance, they did send someone to represent them. A massive Mgalekgolo named Nasutu Osso, a giant even for its kind at over 16 feet tall, towered over everyone else and had to stand due to the ship not having a large, or strong, enough chair to support it. Thankfully, it didn't mind. Osso was a tolerant sort and was just as comfortable standing as it was sitting.

Last, but not least, leading the two dozen Jiralhanae sent by Doisac for their contingent was Special Operations Commander Heraudus Forrhe, effectively serving as War Chieftain for the contingent. He had a long beard that was already white with age. That combined with his ornate silver armor clearly indicated his rank and seniority. Part of the Martialism faction that formed after the H-C War, Forrhe valued discipline and control above all else and his troops were noted to be as disciplined as Sangheili.

Though there were over 300 Huragok on board the _Salamander_, they neglected to send a representative to this meeting. Reason given? They just weren't interested. The Huragok cared only about repairing things and little else. So that was that.

None of them looked particularly happy.

Rear Admiral Cutter stood up and cleared his throat to get everyone's attention, though the mere act of his standing up caused all conversation to cease and heads to turn his way. "Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to call this meeting to attention." His voice was loud and clear, though all eyes and assorted sensory organs in the room were already directed at him. "No doubt everyone here has already heard the rumors."

"Yes, there are quite a lot of them. Many self-contradictory," Fieldmaster 'Talkan commented wryly.

"That is why I'd like for you to hurry up, Chur'R-Cutter," Fieldmistress Var said irritably in reasonably good English. "I would like to report something back to my troops before the rumors start spinning out of control."

"Please may Ras assume the state of being patient/calm which is desirable. The Shipmaster will be about to speak so please may Ras be patient/calm?" Queen Palamok chided gently.

The Kig-Yar merely folded her arms and grumbled something about "nosy friends".

The Yanme'e Queen turned back to Cutter. "Please may Shipmaster Cutter continue with explaining/revealing the current situation which is desirable by all." The translation device managed to translate her buzzing, clicking, chirping language into English, or something as close to English as possible.

Cutter cleared his throat again, this time because he really did need to clear his throat. "Thank you. Now, allow me to first present the information collected by the Clarion drones and the STARS micro-satellites. Natsu?"

The holotank they were sitting around glowed and a large hologram of Earth with Luna orbiting around it appeared above it. Several points of light flying around Earth in Medium Earth Orbit marked the Clarion drones, while hundreds of smaller dots flying around at Low Earth Orbit marked the positions of each baseball-sized STARS microsatellite. Besides those though, the space around Earth was conspicuously empty.

"As you can immediately see, all UNSC facilities and vessels in orbit around Earth appear to have vanished. Not destroyed, just vanished. There is no debris or wreckage to indicate that any battle has occurred. In fact, there is absolutely nothing in orbit around Earth, as if we'd never gone into space in the first place. The Lunar colonies appeared to have also suffered the same fate."

Several murmurs sounded around the table. Some of the officers present had family on Luna or even lived on Luna, so they were understandably worried.

"I only wished that was the most disturbing news I have to give you. Unfortunately." His face turned grim. "It gets worse."

The hologram zoomed in until only Earth was present. Every human officer present saw what was wrong with Earth and their faces turned equally grim.

"As you can see, there are far fewer lights on the surface than there should be. Scans of the planet by STARS indicate that Earth appears to be at a much lower population and technology level than when we'd last saw it. Analysis indicates that they are at about WWII level of technology."

No one spoke. No one could speak. It was just too unbelievable. That they had somehow ended up back in WWII? Unthinkable!

"So we have to fight goddamn Nazis now?" Johnson muttered disbelievingly.

"That's not the end of it. I would like to turn your attention to the North American continent."

As the continent in question was highlighted, every human present gasped in shock.

"What the hell?!" an officer cried.

The entire continent looked as though someone took a knife to it, cut it up, and pasted it back together such that the whole continent looked vaguely like a star; as if it was some sick trickster god's version of a practical joke.

"As you can see, the North American continent has undergone drastic changes to its geography that cannot be explained by any normal means. In addition, most of Brazil appears to now have an inland sea carved into it along with all of Ecuador, the Middle East appears to now be a vast inland sea as well, most of eastern China appears to be gone, there is a now massive crater in western Australia, several of the Pacific islands appear to have moved, and there appears to be a large island a few hundred miles northeast of Papua New Guinea where there wasn't before. The only information we got from intercepted radio broadcasts was that the island is called the Republic of South Sea Island and that it is inhabited by a mixture of English and Japanese-speakers."

Cutter paused to let the assembled officers digest the information.

"In addition to these changes in geography there appear to be large storm systems over Europe, Western Asia, and North Africa."

The large, black swirling clouds were highlighted with blinking outlines.

"We are currently unsure what the cause of the storms is. Our sensors are unable to penetrate the cloud layer for some reason and-"

Suddenly the doors to the conference room slid open and Petty Officer Czherny rushed in. "Sir!" he shouted before he noticed the august company he was keeping and he snapped off a salute. "Sir!" he shouted again, this time more formally.

"At ease, Petty Officer Czherny," Cutter said calmingly. "What do you have to report?"

Czherny relaxed, just a bit. "Sir, STARS has picked up a broadcast I think you need to hear." He took his TACPAD and flicked a program from the screen to the holotank.

An audio file immediately began playing.

"**-y fellow Britannians, we have sacrificed much in the face of this war. Countless lives have been lost in Europe and in our own Britannia. But let us not lose heart! Our soldiers fight valiantly alongside the Allied nations in the continent and our witches fight in the skies and on the ground as the shields and spearheads of our assaults. We shall not rest until the dreaded Neuroi have been driven from Europe once and for all…"**

No one spoke at first.

"My God, that was Winston Churchill," Whittaker declared incredulously.

"Well, that proves it then. We're officially back in WWII," an officer said mournfully.

"Did he say 'Britannia'?" another officer asked. "Doesn't he mean Britain?"

"And what's a 'witch'?" yet another officer asked. "Is that a codeword for some kind of new Allied weapon?"

"And what the hell is a Newroy?" Janet Cutter asked. "Did the Nazis get another nickname?"

Conversation like these continued loudly until Cutter spoke. "Please be silent," he said firmly.

All conversation abruptly halted.

"Thank you. Now, I believe Dr. Voroshilov has a possible answer for this strange situation we've found ourselves in. Doctor?"

Dr. Voroshilov stood up. "Thank you, Rear Admiral Cutter. First off, is anyone here familiar with the many-worlds interpretation of quantum physics?"

No one answered.

"No? Very well, then. The many-worlds interpretation, or MWI, of quantum mechanics asserts the objective reality of the universal waveform and denies the actuality of waveform collapse."

That explanation had pretty much everyone scratching their heads, whether they had heads or not.

"Hey, Scarecrow! Cut the techno-babble and speak in plain English like everyone else! We don't have all day!" Johnson yelled.

Dr. Voroshilov's face twitched as he felt a wave of irritation. "Very well, then. In layman's terms, MWI states that all possible alternative histories and futures are real, each representing an actual world or universe. Basically, the theory states that there is a very large–possibly infinite–number of universes, and that everything that could possibly have happened in our past, but did not, has occurred in the past–or is occurring–in some other universe or universes."

Cutter held up a hand to stop Dr. Voroshilov. "Doctor, could you stop beating around the bush and just tell us where we are?" he asked testily.

Dr. Voroshilov sighed this time in exasperation. "Fine. It is highly likely that we have ended up in one of these other universes via that strange storm-like portal we passed through. In fact, it is a certainty. It is the only way to explain the oddities of this Earth."

There was silence yet again, but this time it was quickly broken by heated discussion.

"We're in what?!"

"You're kidding me!"

"How the hell do we get back?!"

As the conversation descended out of control, Cutter had had enough. He stood up and whistled, loudly. "Calm the hell down!"

Silence immediately returned, with all focus on Cutter.

"Thank you!" He sat back down and turned to Dr. Voroshilov. "So now that we're in another universe, how do we get back to our own universe?"

"It is simple, really. We will need to activate my Hermes Drive once more to reenter interdimensional space and find the portal back to our own universe."

"Was it not your device which brought us here in the first place?" 'Talkan asked.

"That is also why my Hermes Drive is the only method of returning to our own universe."

Cutter thought about it. "If we need to go back to that strange space, we'll have to fight those creatures again. We'll need all systems at 100% to have a chance of winning and that means we need all reactors running." He turned to Lane. "Senior Engineman Lane, how long do we have until Reactor One is back online?"

The Senior Engineman scratched her head as she thought, then held up three fingers. "Three months. That's how long my team and the Huragok said they needed to fix the thing."

Cutter stared at her levelly. "That long?"

Lane nodded. "'Fraid so. A lot of the outer casing was melted together and much of the internal mechanisms were damaged as well. And even after getting back up, it won't be running at 100%. At best, I'd estimate about 50%...and that's optimistic. It'd also be as likely to malfunction and shut back down any time. If it were up to me, I'd much rather replace the whole thing at a shipyard."

Cutter gestured at the hologram of Earth still floating above the holotank. "In case you haven't noticed, we're a little short on shipyards at the moment," he said sarcastically.

Lane grimaced. "Yeah, I got that. I'm just saying, we can get it back online, but it won't be at full power."

Dr. Voroshilov raised a hand for attention. "That brings up another problem as well. My Hermes Drive consumes a large amount of power. If not enough power is available, the required power will be drained out of the other systems. It will reduce the ship's ability to fight or even maneuver effectively and that could mean our collective deaths when we run into those creatures again."

Silence reigned for a moment as they digested the information.

"What about my ship?" Whittaker asked.

Cutter turned to him, or rather, his hologram. "Explain."

"The _Bamboo Cutter_ has two perfectly working D-T fusion reactors. If you take out one of them out, you could replace Reactor One with it. It'll be a bit underpowered, but it'll be far better than running a MacGyvered reactor waiting to go at any time."

Cutter rubbed his chin as he thought. "That's brilliant actually." He turned back to Lane. "How soon can you make the transfer?"

Lane ran the numbers through her head and grinned. "A few weeks, not even a month really. Have to cut open some of the armor plating and hull to get to it, but it wouldn't be any worse than a yard fix."

Cutter nodded and smiled. "Do it, and make the transfer as soon as you get Reactor One out."

"Actually, using the _Strident_'s D-T reactor brings up another problem."

Everyone turned to the one who'd made that statement: Dr. Emmerich.

"Why is that?" Cutter asked.

The hologram of Janet Cutter smacked her forehead. "Of course! Fuel!" she groaned.

Dr. Emmerich nodded. "As I recall, the _Salamander_ only carries Helium-3 fuel for its own reactors and the _Stridents_ don't carry much D-T fuel in their storage tanks, at least not enough to fuel the _Salamander _as well. We'll need to stock up on D-T if we want to make any kind of long journey."

Cutter nodded grimly. Helium-3 would be easy to get. The Moon below them was full of Helium-3 and would be easy to mine. Deuterium and tritium on the other hand…

"We'll need to set up a heavy water production facility on Earth," de Medici concluded.

Cutter winced. Right now, Earth was a complete unknown. Setting up a heavy water production facility there would be…risky, to say the least. "We need to find out what the hell's going on down there first," he concluded.

Johnson thumped himself on the chest. "Leave it to my Marines, captain! We'll recon the hell out of Earth. Though, I'd like to suggest a place to start."

"Where?" Cutter asked.

Johnson stood up. "There," he said, pointing at Europe. "Our sensors couldn't penetrate those storm systems, right? If you're looking for something suspicious, I think that's pretty high up on my list of suspicious things here. Let me send down a platoon to scout things out and get the lay of the land. By the time they're finished, they'll even be able to tell you how many blades of grass are under those clouds!"

Despite the joke, Cutter didn't laugh or even smile. Thoughts of the _Spirit of Fire_ entered his mind and he recalled the empty cryo chambers, each one representing a trooper who wouldn't be coming home. John Forge's empty chamber stuck out in particular.

"Is there any way we can get this information other than by direct recon?" Cutter asked.

Johnson thought for a moment. "We could send in a recon drone, but without knowing what's under those clouds, there's a high chance the drone will be detected and our cover'll be blown. Personally, I'd rather not announce ourselves until we can do it on our own terms."

The more Cutter thought about it, the more Johnson's words made sense. Finally, he sighed. "You have permission to send down troops for reconnaissance. Troop deployment is up to you, but you are to avoid contact with the natives. Fire only in self-defense and only if you have no choice. This is not to be a reconnaissance by fire, got it?"

Johnson grinned. "Crystal. And don't worry about my boys and girls. They're Marines, and Marines are notoriously hard to kill!"

* * *

Addendum:

[1]:

A. A korta was a quadrapedal, herbivorous mammalian animal native to Sanghelios. It stood between 7-8 feet tall and had been described by human observers as "the result of a drunken night between a Triceratops, a porcupine, and a wild boar". It sported two brow horns, two forward-pointing nasal horns between a beak, and an armored frill on its neck; but its most distinctive feature were the long quills covering its body like a fur coat. The longest of these quills were a foot long and each was covered in backward-pointing barbs, making removing them an extremely painful procedure. As if those weren't enough, the korta also had a fierce temper and attacked any non-korta creature in sight that was at or greater than its size. Korta bulls attacked each other as well during mating season. This made it one of the most dangerous game for Sangheili to hunt and was highly respected by Sangheili hunters for that. Despite this, or perhaps because of this, Sangheili have been frequently known to say that "the korta is a creature best admired from a distance…and from inside an armored vehicle".

B. An insult used by Sangheili for a short-tempered individual, usually one of their own kind, who lashes out at every slight. Came from the korta animal.

[2]: STARS- Stealth Tactical Aerial Reconnaissance Satellite. A satellite system developed by the UNSC for rapid analysis of a target planet, the system consisted of hundreds of baseball-sized, stealthy micro-satellites deployed by an equally stealthy pod. A STARS system could completely scan the surface of an Earth-sized planet in under an hour. Once carried only by prowlers, STARS was now carried by all UNSC capital ships and has proved time and time again to be a very handy tool in the UNSC's arsenal.

[3]: The Laros-Kai-class Neuroi were a type of flying Neuroi encountered during the Second Neuroi War and were speculated to be an improvement to the Laros-class due to their similar roles. They measured 60 meters long and were both fast and heavily armored, though they weren't as maneuverable as their cousins.


End file.
